


Souvenirs

by CaspianTheGeek (DemonicGeek)



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: 6000 Year Slow Burn, Angst with a Happy Ending, Aziraphale loves Crowley, Brief mention of oppression, Brief mention of period homophobia, Crowley likes collecting, Crowley loves Aziraphale, Flashbacks, Fluff and Angst, Fools in Love, Happy Ending, Ineffable Partners, M/M, Modern day cuddles, Sauntering Vaguely Grammarish, Series of Flashbacks, These two are in love, ineffable husbands, no beta we fall like demons, so much pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-17
Updated: 2020-01-25
Packaged: 2020-12-20 20:33:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 38,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21062777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DemonicGeek/pseuds/CaspianTheGeek
Summary: Crowley has always collected souvenirs. Post Apocanot, Aziraphale starts to really explore his flat for the first time. And Crowley is finally sharing the stories behind all of the things he's collected."He didn’t expect the angel to take him up on his offer. He certainly didn’t expect him to take him up on it without any sort of argument. But then Aziraphale was there, sitting next to him, leaning into his chest, Crowley’s arm around him. Both of them sipping the wine. Crowley had never been happier, nor more terrified.“Dear, I, uh, noticed something while I was getting the wine and I hope it’s not too forward of me to ask, but” Aziraphale trailed off.“What is it, angel?”“That statue down the hall, is it from the church during the Blitz?”Crowley froze. He’d forgotten that statue was in plain view, and that Aziraphale would recognize it. Crowley had a habit of collecting what he termed souvenirs. That one was one of his particular favorites."I don't foresee this going extra angsty, but Crowley is Crowley so there's going to be some angst and pining. I don't expect this to go explicit, but I make no promises. I'll update the tags if need be.





	1. The Blitz Statue

**Author's Note:**

> So, the entire fic is outlined. We've got 17 chapters to work through folx. They're going to be varying lengths and I *think* this will be one of the longer ones. But I make no promises because there are many a time I start what I think will be something short and easy and turn around to somehow having written 10 pages.
> 
> I'm not going to put myself on a schedule here. ADHD brain will just panic. But again, it IS outlined. All the souvenirs are picked out (unless someone throws a suggestion in the comments I really cannot live without writing... in which case it will go longer). We've got 17 chapters of pining and obnoxious sweetness coming.
> 
> I'm hoping to get the first two chapters up tonight and another by the end of the weekend. Kudos and comments will keep me writing. Also, getting these stupid stories out of my head about these two fools in love.

Aziraphale didn’t let go of Crowley’s hand as they exited the bus in front of Crowley’s flat. If anything, he seemed to tighten his grip. Crowley wasn’t going to complain. He allowed himself to lean slightly on the angel as they made their way up the stairs.

As they reached the door, Crowley snapped his fingers allowing it to pop open. No time for keys right now, he wasn’t sure he had the energy to even make it to the couch. He stumbled in, cognizant that the angel was behind him. Not quite sure what to do with that. He’d always been oddly protective of his space. Not that Aziraphale hadn’t been over once or twice but they’d always been short visits. Not long enough for him to make it further than the initial sitting room.

Crowley decided he didn’t have the energy to worry about it as he sank down onto the couch.

“I’ll just make us some tea then?”

“There’s some wine in the kitchen, angel.”

Aziraphale smiled. “Wine, then. You rest for a moment, I’ll be right back.”

Crowley watched the angel bustle from the room. Then he pulled off his sunglasses and rubbed his forehead. It’d been a long, long day. And it wasn’t over yet. Heaven and Hell may have allowed their stunt for the time being, but there was no way there wouldn’t be repercussions over their actions at the airfield. He needed to find a plan. He needed to keep Aziraphale safe.

He sighed and threw his glasses to the side and leaned back on the couch. He’d think better after a couple of glasses of wine.

Aziraphale came back with a particularly good vintage and two wine glasses in his hand. His hand was still shaking slightly as he held out the glass for Crowley and then he seemed to debate where to sit. Crowley raised an eyebrow and then held out his arm.

He didn’t expect the angel to take him up on his offer. He certainly didn’t expect him to take him up on it without any sort of argument. But then Aziraphale was there, sitting next to him, leaning into his chest, Crowley’s arm around him. Both of them sipping the wine. Crowley had never been happier, nor more terrified.

“Dear, I, uh, noticed something while I was getting the wine and I hope it’s not too forward of me to ask, but” Aziraphale trailed off.

“What is it, angel?”

“That statue down the hall, is it from the church during the Blitz?”

Crowley froze. He’d forgotten that statue was in plain view, and that Aziraphale would recognize it. Crowley had a habit of collecting what he termed souvenirs. That one was one of his particular favorites. “Yup.”

“You… saved it?”

Crowley considered the process he’d gone through. Taking Aziraphale home. Going back to the church to get the statue. “Yup.”

Aziraphale sat up and for one heart breaking instant Crowley thought he’d done something too wrong. He’d finally found the one thing that would push the angel away for good. And then Aziraphale simply grabbed the wine bottle and topped both their glasses off before leaning back into his embrace.

“Tell me what happened?”

Crowley smiled.

\-----------------------

**1941**

Crowley and Aziraphale walked away from what was once a church, Aziraphale trailing a step or two behind him. Crowley thought that was for the best. He wasn’t sure he could look at the angel right now, not after that look he’d received for saving the books. Not after that casual hand brush as he’d passed the bag over.

Not after seeing that love simply flow out.

No it was definitely for the best he have a few moments to collect himself. First time seeing the angel in decades and what he gets in return is a look that could discorporate him on the spot if he allowed himself to stop and think. Instead he let himself focus and wince slightly at the pain that was still in his feet.

Then he forced a smile to his face as they walked up to the Bentley. He truly did think it was one of his better decisions over the years. The car was a work of art. He opened the door for Aziraphale and turned to him, smiling still.

He was relieved to see Aziraphale’s face was no longer shining. It was schooled back to his normal polite smiles. Maybe he’d make it through the night after all. He closed the door after Aziraphale climbed in and went around to the driver’s side.

Crowley was tempted to show Aziraphale how fast the car could go. It was almost, almost as good as flying once you got it to a proper speed. Then he realized he didn’t want to scare the angel the very first time. Instead he settled for them making their normal small talk. How things had been. What Aziraphale had been up to. The new inventions the humans created.

He pulled up to the bookshop, loathe to end their conversation so soon. Aziraphale paused, then Crowley could see a decision in his eyes. “Would you like to come in for a bit? I’ve got a new case of wine I think you’d just absolutely adore.”

And so Crowley was following him into the bookshop. And the new wine had been quite good indeed. Before long it seemed like no time had passed, even if it’d really been all the time in the world. And then Crowley’s glasses were off and Aziraphale was sharing stories about dancing and he couldn’t help but take in the look in his eyes and joy on his face. Aziraphale.

Which is why he didn’t remember his feet as the angel pulled him up to show him the dance.

He tried to stop the low hiss that came out, but he wasn’t quite in time. He watched Aziraphale freeze and look at him, assessing. He plastered a smile onto his face.

“Show me the dance, angel.”

“Crowley, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

Aziraphale merely stared at him, one eyebrow raised. Then he gently pulled his hand, making him take a step forward. Crowley didn’t hiss this time, but he couldn’t stop the flinch across his face.

“Your feet.”

“They’re fine. They’ll be fine. Just need some time to heal.” He couldn’t heal them himself. He’d tried. Demonic miracles didn’t work on holy burns it seemed.

“Oh stop being foolish.” And then Crowley was left gasping as Aziraphale literally picked him up. He seemed to debate for a moment then shrugged and took him up the stairs in the back of the shop. Crowley’s interest piqued. He’d never been back here before.

Aziraphale gently placed him down on a stool in front of a bathtub. Then he kneeled and began to untie and pull off his boots. Crowley couldn’t stop the hiss as Aziraphale pulled off the socks that were burnt slightly into his skin. Aziraphale looked up at him apologetically but didn’t stop.

“You really should have said something my dear, I could have treated these hours ago.”

“Tried to miracle them but…”

“Holy burns. Won’t miracle away.”

Crowley nodded.

Aziraphale sighed and then pulled Crowley’s first foot over the tub and began to gently rinse it. After washing it gently Crowley watched him miracle some ointment and bandages and gently wrap the foot. Then he repeated the process with the second one. Crowley couldn’t help but stare as the angel nursed him. He gulped. Then he reminded himself the angel was not his, no matter how much he may wish otherwise. And he needed to keep his calm.

“May need to take a rain check on that dance.”

“Yes, quite. You know you’re welcome to stay here tonight. Til they heal even.”

“Wouldn’t be smart, angel. They might check in on me. Wouldn’t be good if they found me here.”

Crowley stumbled to his feet. They still hurt, but not as much. He wondered if the angel had added a small miracle to help with the pain.

Aziraphale smiled and reached out an arm for support to help him back to the Bentley. He wished the angel a good night, wishing not for the first time that this night was ending in a good night kiss.

He watched Aziraphale make his way back to the shop, shooting second glances over his shoulder in the process.

He fought the urge to get out of the Bentley and follow him back in. Yes, angel. I’m here. For anything. He leaned back and closed his eyes for a moment. All in all, not a bad hello after such a long time. He felt like a hole inside him was filled again. Aziraphale.

He sighed and started the Bentley. He couldn’t resist driving past the church on his way home. As he did, he looked up and saw the statue just sitting there. He thought about Aziraphale standing in front of that statue. 

He thought about the look of sheer love.

He thought about the brush of the angel’s fingers on his as he handed the books over.

He snapped his fingers and the statue was safely stowed back in his flat.

He drove home and stumbled through the door. He smiled as he saw the statue sitting there. He reached out and gently touched it. He thought about love, and allowed himself to hope.

\-----------------------

**Modern Day**

“Oh you know angel, it was just a souvenir. Of that night. First time I’d seen you in a bit.”

And then Crowley worried he said the wrong thing, because Aziraphale was pulling away. No, no he’d changed his mind, he didn’t want whatever this way he-

Aziraphale turned back to Crowley holding out his hand. Crowley took it, allowing the angel to slowly lead him through his own flat.

Aziraphale stopped in front of the statue and reached out to touch it almost reverently. He seemed to be considering.

“Crowley, I… I should have told you decades ago. Centuries ago really. But that night…I’ve no excuse”

He trailed off. Crowley waited, noting that his hand was still in his. Aziraphale squeezed it and then pale blue eyes looked up into his eyes.

“I love you. I have, for the longest time. That night was- was the first time I realized how in love you were with me. I sat there in the shop for hours after you left. I thought about all our interactions. I thought about all the times you’d said you loved me without saying it. But that night was the one that forced it in front of me where I couldn’t deny it any longer.”

Crowley stared, not sure what to say. Not sure how to say it. Lost in pale blue eyes. “I… love you too.”

Aziraphale gave a small smile. “I know, love.”

Crowley’s heart beat in ways it shouldn’t with that simple word.

“I would quite like to, Crowley that is, can I-” Aziraphale paused and then the words finally tumbled out. “Can I kiss you?”

Crowley couldn’t speak. He just nodded.

And then Aziraphale’s hand was coming up to cup his face, gently caressing his cheek. And he was leaning forward, and Crowley was leaning down and then the angel’s lips were on his. And he was feeling Aziraphale’s lips on his while his arms were wrapping themselves around the angel’s waist, pulling him closer.

The kiss ended far too soon. Aziraphale slowly pulling back, looking at him.

And then he was kissing him again, and this one was not nearly so gentle, but Crowley found he didn’t mind. One of Aziraphale’s hands was running through his hair and then his lips parted and all of a sudden he was feeling not only Aziraphale’s lips, but his tongue oh God, Satan, whoever.

Crowley couldn’t suppress the quiet moan. Didn’t try to. Just leaned into the kiss more. And when this one ended they were both gasping. But Aziraphale’s hand had never quite left his cheek and his eyes were looking at him with love. That same love he’d seen that night in 1941 was reflected in Aziraphale’s eyes now and unlike last time Crowley just let himself bask in it like a snake soaking in the sun for the first time.

Aziraphale leaned forward, but this time he didn’t kiss him. He merely rested his forehead against Crowley’s and they just stood there. Crowley wasn’t sure how long.

Finally, Aziraphale pulled back. “They’re going to come for you. For both of us. We need a plan.”

Crowley’s head screamed no. It screamed that he couldn’t lose this now. No, not now. Not ever, but especially not now. “They can’t have you.” He hissed. And then lighter. “You’re mine?”

“I am. But it won’t stop them. Might encourage them.”

“Agnes’s prophecy.”

“Mm. Faces. I quite like yours, you know.”

Crowley felt a smile try to spread across his face, but no they needed to stay focused now. “Aziraphale, what would be the punishment for you?”

“I-I imagine they’d quite like to just burn me. They can’t make me fall, so the next best option is just getting rid of me.”

Crowley felt his whole body spasm. Felt his arms tighten around Aziraphale. Pulled him close as if that would protect him. “No.”

“What- what would be yours, my dear?”

Crowley thought for a moment. “Holy water. S’what I used. They’ll want a tooth for a tooth.”

He watched centuries of fear pass through Aziraphale’s eyes. He knew Aziraphale hadn’t wanted to give him the holy water for fear he’d use it on himself. He hadn’t realized that Aziraphale had probably had his own nightmares about that exact situations just as he knew he would after seeing the book shop aflame.

“Aziraphale, we’ll figure this out.” He kissed his forehead. Not able to offer anything else besides that at the moment.

“Agnes. Faces. Crowley, if we were to trade. The punishment for you won’t hurt me. My punishment won’t hurt you.”

Crowley’s face cracked. “I’m not letting you go to Hell, angel. S’not the place for you.”

“It’s just a place Crowley.”

“What if they decide to try something else?”

“They’re not that creative. Neither is Heaven. Do you think I’d let you anywhere near them if I thought they could actually come up with a plan to harm you?”

“Aziraphale.” This came out more a whine. A plea. A request for something, anything else. Crowley tried desperately to think of any other plan.

The angel gazed into his eyes. “Agnes would have warned us if this wouldn’t work, Crowley. It’s a thin hope, but it’s the best one we have. It just may work. And if it does, they’ll be scared enough to leave us alone for quite awhile.”

Crowley stared back into pale blue. Then he let his eyes slide shut and he nodded. He could play this part. He could keep his angel safe. They knew each other inside and out, if anyone could impersonate them-

“But I think that can wait until morning. Right now, if it’s alright, I’d quite like to kiss you again?”

Crowley chuckled. “You can kiss me anytime you’d like, angel.”

Aziraphale smiled as he leaned in for another kiss. Crowley happily obliged, content to have the angel in his arms.

After a moment the angel pulled back slowly. “So what else did you keep over the years?”

“Oh you know, just a few things. Souvenirs. If we survive the next day I’ll show them all to you if you want.”

“I’d quite like that. Tonight though, we’ve got a few hours. There’s… Crowley I… if we’re going to risk everything tomorrow well tonight I’d quite like to belong to us and…” He trailed off.

“Just spit it out, Aziraphale. Anything you want. Anything I can give to you.”

“Do you have a bedroom? I’d… I’d like to try something beyond kissing.”

Crowley pulled the angel in for a quick, but forceful kiss. “Anything you want, angel.” And he pulled back, holding Aziraphale’s hand as he lead the way down the hall.


	2. The Chain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night after the Ritz, Aziraphale asks Crowley to share another souvenir story.

“To the world.”

Crowley stared at the angel. His angel. He was safe. They were safe. He sipped the champagne, eyes never leaving the angel. He could stare at him for all eternity.

There was a flash of a tower of flame in the back of his head. He ignored it. They were safe.

As they left the Ritz, Aziraphale reached out and took his hand. Crowley let himself lean over into the angel. Head near resting on his shoulder as his hand held his.

“Would you like to go back to the book shop or your place? I would rather like to see more of your souvenirs.”

Crowley smiled. There was no mention of them going a different way. Our side. Our way. “Whatever you’d like, angel.”

And so he found himself entering his apartment with the angel for the second time in two days. This time Aziraphale took the lead, pulling him through the door and then onto the couch. He wrapped his arms around Crowley from behind and then sighed into his neck through the hug.

“Forgive me my dear, it’s just. A bit of a day. I don’t think I can let go of you for quite awhile.”

“Aziraphale, what-” Crowley twisted and turned in only the way a snake could. Turning to face the angel. “What happened?”

“Crowley, they…” Aziraphale trailed off. “Crowley, I worried about you with the holy water. For so long. I wondered one day if you just… wouldn’t be there. I was so scared for so long. And they- they-” Aziraphale shuddered. “They gave you a farce of a trial. And then Michael and the holy water and they threw one demon in to be sure it worked. If we hadn’t, if I hadn’t. You’d be-” Aziraphale stopped with a half sob.

“Aziraphale, they didn’t even give you a trial.” Crowley hated the crack in his own voice.

“What?”

“There wasn’t a trial. Just… just a condemnation.” And now Crowley was the one shivering in Aziraphale’s arms, and Aziraphale was tightening his grip. “They just put up a pillar of flame and expected you to walk into it, Aziraphale. Weren’t surprised at all that I did. Gabriel said to shut up and die already and-”

Crowley twisted so that he was fully facing Aziraphale, still locked in a tight embrace in his lap.

“I won’t let them anywhere near you, Aziraphale. Never again. Not after that.” 

Crowley saw the tears on Aziraphale’s cheeks. Then he felt one finally roll past his sunglasses and down his own cheek. He watched Aziraphale’s hand reach out, gently wiping the tear away. Then his hand rested on his glasses for just a moment. Crowley nodded, and Aziraphale pulled the glasses away. Crowley found himself staring into a pool of crystal blue, accented by the tears still in his eyes.

Aziraphale rested his hand on Crowley’s cheek. “I’ll trust you’ll understand if I’m quite insistent that I do any handling of holy water for the foreseeable future? The idea of you anywhere near it…” Aziraphale let the sentence hang.

“Only wanted it to protect you and us, angel. Not planning to be anywhere without you. Not anymore.” Crowley leaned in to softly kiss Aziraphale. “And you’ll be sure to stay away from any fire, please.” He reached up to let his hands trace through the angel’s curls as he kissed him a second time. Feeling the angel relax beneath him. After Aziraphale let out a soft sigh, Crowley reluctantly pulled back. He nuzzled into Aziraphale’s neck, letting his eyes close.

He felt Aziraphale whisper “Our side” into his hair. Safe. Here.

They stayed like that for a time. So close they may as well have been one. Hands gently caressing. 

“Crowley?” Aziraphale was gently brushing his hand through Crowley’s hair. 

“Mmm?”

“Tell me about your favorite souvenir.”

Crowley thought. He thought about all the memories, both with Aziraphale and not. He thought about the pain and the happiness. The hope. “Don’t know that I have a favorite, angel.”

“Tell me about the closest one to us right now, then. Is there one in the room?”

Crowley smiled. He reached down and pulled up the chain from around his neck. “Remember this?”

“I’ve seen you wearing it, it feels for ages. But I don’t recall when it first appeared.” Aziraphale reached down to run his hand down the small chain. He let his hand gently brush Crowley’s chest and neck as he examined the chain.

\-----------------------------------------  
**The 14th Century**

It was the 14th century. Crowley truly hated the 14th century. He’d consoled Aziraphale through the Black Plague, using demonic miracles wherever he could mostly justify them. Aziraphale had been told point black he wasn’t to use any miracles to save those afflicted. It was all part of the plan. Crowley hated the plan.

But the plague hadn’t lasted forever. Eventually it’d come to an end. It had taken Aziraphale at least a decade to lose the deadened look in his eyes. Crowley wasn’t sure the haunted look was gone from his yet, but he was solidly trying to drink it away at the local tavern this evening.

Which is why he’d lost his glasses.

Which is why he was now being accosted by a few men who’d lost their families in the plague and found a yellow eyed demon to blame. Crowley cursed his stupidity, but he wasn’t truly worried. It was just a couple of foolish mortals.

That was until they bound his wrists with what must have been consecrated rope. He held back a hiss, he didn’t need to clue them in any further. But it burned. And he was effectively trapped. He just hoped they didn’t have any actual holy water or other consecrated items.

Then he was being dragged down the street.

All he could do was hope they weren’t going to the church. The burn now was annoying, but the church would be dangerous. If just his feet came into contact it’d be feasible. He’d been dimwitted enough to try that before. But if there were more, or if they had holy water.

He decided not to worry. Instead he observed. Tried to take it all in. Tried to come up with a plan if needed.

Then he tried not to laugh when he realized they were dragging him to Aziraphale’s house. Of course. He was the village religious leader currently. They hadn’t replaced the last one after the Black Plague. It was a ruse he’d need to give up soon, before they realized he wasn’t aging, but for now it worked.

And Crowley was being dragged before him tied in a consecrated rope. Well, at least he didn’t need to worry quite as much now.

Crowley watched the men knock and vaguely paid attention as they explained why they’d captured him. The yellow eyed demon. Clearly responsible for the plague. Asking what to do with him.

Crowley stared into Aziraphale’s eyes. Aziraphale never flinched at his yellow eyes. Sometimes he’d like to even pretend Aziraphale may like them. Crowley flicked his eyes from Aziraphale’s down to his wrists and back up again. Pain. Hurt. He felt Aziraphale’s senses reach out to him and then saw the angel’s eyes widen.

“You fools, you can’t tie someone you think is a demon with such a simple rope!”

“But we prayed over it!”

Aziraphale huffed in disapproval and held out a small chain. “Here, bind him with that. It will hold him if he’s a demon.” And at that Aziraphale gave him a very stern look. Crowley got the message. Pretend to be held. Got it.

He resisted hissing again as the rope was pulled off. He noticed already it had left red marks on his wrist, and he knew they’d be healing for weeks. But the relief was palpable as the rope slide off and the chain slid onto his wrists.

Aziraphale led the men in and began to make a show for testing if this was truly a demon. Crowley grimaced through some random chants, fake holy water thrown in his face, and a crude crucifix held to his skin. Nothing worked, of course. He was certain of a few things, but one of them was that Aziraphale wouldn’t harm him.

But the men weren’t giving in. Eventually they changed their tactic to him clearly being possessed.

He stared into Aziraphale’s eyes. There was one easy way to get rid of them. One stupid little act they’d actually done before.

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow, asking permission. Crowley nodded.

And Aziraphale began an utterly fake chant in Latin to exorcise a demon. Crowley rolled his eyes and then realizing a show couldn’t hurt, rolled them back into his head and made an act of how the demon was fleeing him. Then he collapsed to the ground in a heap.

The men were now standing in the back of the room, clearly terrified. Crowley rolled over and stared up at Aziraphale. “Oh the chains no longer bind me!” and he dropped the chain off his wrists. He turned to the men and thanked them profusely for their help.

“But his eyes, they’re still-”

“He’s marked for life I’m afraid. Sign that a demon once inhabited him. Can’t be helped unfortunately. He’ll have to explain it everywhere he goes, but you two know to show him kindness surely?”

The men nodded.

“I’ll just keep him here for a bit. See that he’s well taken care of and that there’s no lasting problems.”

Crowley made a show of crawling over to Aziraphale and looking up at him beseechingly as the men left. He waited until he couldn’t hear them anymore before turning to Aziraphale and shaking his head so water splattered the angel. “Really, was the water strictly necessary?”

“I was just making a show of it. I wasn’t the one who got myself dragged in here you know. Wine?”

“Please. And angel, thank you.”

Aziraphale smiled as he poured and then held a glass of wine out to the demon. “I’m just glad they brought you here instead of elsewhere. Really dear, you need to be more careful. I may not always be available to get you out of a scrape.”

Crowley merely glowered a bit as he slowly sipped at the wine. “I was supposed to be tempting those two.”

“Into?”

“Not sure exactly. They didn’t say.”

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow and then snapped.

Crowley jumped up. “What did you just do?”

“Took care of it. Thought you had enough of a day. Careful, you’re going to spill the wine.” Aziraphale continued to sip slowly.

“Does this mean you’ve… rethought the Arrangement?” Crowley eyes nearly glowing as he stared at Aziraphale.

“I mean, it does make sense. And I do owe you quite a bit for all your help last decade, dear. Even if it wasn’t strictly on the books. You-” Aziraphale stared past Crowley’s shoulder, unable to make eye contact. “You’re right Crowley. It’s senseless for us to be constantly working against each other when we could...help. And both be better off for it.”

Crowley felt a smile start to cross his lips. For the first time the words “our side” echoed in his head. He and Aziraphale. He caught himself and reminded himself that this was just a business dealing, truly. Just because Aziraphale was willing to work with him didn’t mean that it meant more than that.

“Besides, you really are quite nice.”

The smile disappeared. “Don’t let anyone hear you say that, angel. Hell doesn’t send rude notes.”

Crowley sank down in the chair across from Aziraphale, seeming to coil in like a snake as he held out his hand. “A few temptations here and there, a few blessings. Look out for each other like we always have.”

And now Aziraphale turned his blue eyes to meet snake yellow. Crowley wasn’t sure he could take that stare long. But Aziraphale’s hand was on his as he said “As we always have.”

Crowley was going to torture himself over that later. For tonight, he turned the topic to the local drinks and what was available and how much longer did Aziraphale really expect to spend in that small town.

Aziraphale smiled and relaxed as they worked their way through the wineskin. If Crowley’s eyes lingered a bit too often on his face, neither of them said anything about it.

After awhile Aziraphale saw Crowley cringe as his shirt brushed his wrists. He reached out before he could think, before he could stop himself.

“May I?”

Crowley raised an eyebrow but held his arms. Aziraphale carefully examined them. He got up and came back with some ointment that he gently rubbed in. Crowley hissed, but this one was out of pleasure rather than pain as the redness began to quickly fade. Aziraphale smiled.

They sat a little closer to each other as the conversation continued.

Towards the end of the night Crowley reached down and scooped up the chain. “Mind if I keep this?”

“It’s just an old link of chain.” Aziraphale looked at him questioningly. “But if you’d like to, of course.”

Crowley smiled as he slid it into his pocket. He hoped it was a souvenir of what may become the most important night of his life.

\-------------------------------  
**Modern Era**

“You used it on me.”

“What?” Aziraphale glanced down at the demon in his eyes utterly confused.

“Remember the 14th century? Those local villagers took a dislike to my eyes?”

Aziraphale’s eyes widened and then he laughed into Crowley’s hair. “That fake exorcism. I don’t know how you kept a straight face through the thing.”

“I mean it helped that at least all you were shouting out was your grocery list in latin.” And now Crowley was smiling too.

Aziraphale suddenly froze. “Wait, that was the night we came to the Arrangement.”

Crowley hummed into Aziraphale’s neck. “I needed something for the most important night of my life to date. Didn’t know I was ever going to get more of you than that, but…” he pulled back and looked at Aziraphale. “That’s why I always wore it. Close to me. Reminded me of you. That you’d be there if I needed you.”

“Oh, Crowley.” Aziraphale didn’t have time to continue as suddenly Crowley’s lips were on his.

Crowley broke the kiss and nestled himself into Aziraphale’s arms a little more tightly. “Our side, Aziraphale. You’re here. It’s safe now.”

Aziraphale blinked away the image of the small demon screaming in holy water. He tightened his grip and promised himself it would never happen. Crowley was safe. They were safe. “Our side, love.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh look! Two chapters one night.
> 
> Eyeing chapter 3 in hyper fixation mode.


	3. The Coin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Crowley smiled. He knew the perfect item. He snapped and it appeared in his hand. Recognize this, angel?
> 
> “It’s just a coin.”
> 
> “S’an old coin.”
> 
> Aziraphale gingerly took it out of Crowley’s hand, staring at it. Crowley had expected a smile, what he saw instead was shock."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh I lied. Here there be angst. Angst angst angst. You have been warned. 
> 
> Don't worry, there are cuddles. They're together. Nothing's ever going to happen modern day folx. But beware Shakespeare.

Aziraphale and Crowley hadn’t moved from the couch. Neither was quite willing to let go of the other yet. And so they spent the night cuddled and talking. Shared kisses and touches between and sometimes during stories.

Crowley thought it would take him a century of this to even fully accept it, let alone adjust. Being with Aziraphale, in Aziraphale’s arms. Simply curled in the most wonderful place in any universe.

Aziraphale seemed to nearly forget he was holding Crowley at times and then would startle and a beatific smile would cross his face. It was one Crowley didn’t see often. It was saved for specific instances.

“Crowley, tell me another story. Another souvenir maybe? I’ve only seen two.”

“Don’t want to get up.”

“I’ll go get it for you if you tell me-”

“Don’t want you to get up either.”

Aziraphale laughed into Crowley’s hair. “Of course.”

Crowley smiled. He knew the perfect item. He snapped and it appeared in his hand. Recognize this, angel?

“It’s just a coin.”

“S’an old coin.”

Aziraphale gingerly took it out of Crowley’s hand, staring at it. Crowley had expected a smile, what he saw instead was shock.

\----------------------  
**The Globe - Early 1600’s**

Aziraphale had invited him to the play. What was going to see another play by Shakespeare. After all, even if it was one of his gloomy ones he’d get to spend the evening with Aziraphale, and that surely made up for any of the morose feelings the plays could endear. Besides, the problems in Shakespeare’s plays, even when they were supernatural, were just so human. Things took on a different view when you were aware of your own immortality.

So Crowley wasn’t expecting much, but the sight of Aziraphale made it more than worth it. The glasses didn’t hide too much of his eyes, but they did allow them to linger briefly. Mostly on Aziraphale’s own eyes. The deep blue pools of which he could not deny to himself.

They sat together to watch the play, carefully hidden in the crowd. Where no one would notice. Where a quick escape could be made if someone did show up. Not that either side regularly checked in, but it was still best to maintain appearances. The Arrangement was convenient, but it would be decidedly less so if it took the angel away from his side.

Crowley watched the young couple fall in love. He watched them thwart their families. He let his mind wander as he stole glances to his right. Oh angel, did you know what the topic tonight was about?

“O, speak again, bright angel! for thou art  
As glorious to this night, being o'er my head  
As is a winged messenger of heaven  
Unto the white-upturned wondering eyes  
Of mortals that fall back to gaze on him  
When he bestrides the lazy-pacing clouds  
And sails upon the bosom of the air.”

Crowley felt his heart leap. Was he that obvious? Was his love and adoration for the angel that clear? Or was it simply happenstance? He stole a glance at Aziraphale who was looking steadfastly forward, face unreadable. Oh angel, my angel do you know there is nothing I would not do for you?

“I know not how to tell thee who I am:  
My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself,  
Because it is an enemy to thee;  
Had I it written, I would tear the word.”

And therein was the truth. His name. His original name would no longer be spoken, not to Aziraphale. Not to anyone. His name now was demon. Crawly. Detestable. And while he noted the love between the actors on stage, Aziraphale was looking at him with no such love right now. No the angel was all but rigid in his seat.

“If they do see thee, they will murder thee.”  
“I would not for the world they saw thee here.”

For the first time Crowley saw a reaction in Aziraphale’s face. He stared as the angel’s eyes slid shut. Aziraphale’s face, always so telling was clearly trying to hold something in. Do you worry for me, angel? Do I dare hope?

As Romeo and Juliet made their marriage promises, Crowley fought not to whimper in his seat. Too much. Far too much. Too much to hope for, he’d settle for a night spent in the angel’s company. For simply love. Just to be with the angel without fear. For the angel to want him too. He risked another glance at Aziraphale. His eyes were open again. He was feasting in a way he usually only did at meals.

As he watched first Mercutio and Tybalt be slain, Crowley cringed. The price for love. Theirs would either start a war or end in their own death, he tried to remind himself. Most likely the latter. Heaven and Hell were not bickering families. And yet, in this story there was hope. Romeo and Juliet could still run. And he considered where he could run to with Aziraphale. His mind went to the stars he’d made.

And then Romeo was banished and Crowley was falling. Or may as well have been. He didn’t look at Aziraphale now. He couldn’t. He closed his eyes against the memories of banishment and how he could say he sauntered vaguely downward all he wanted, but it didn’t erase the Fall. It didn’t erase the pain. 

If he’d merely opened his eyes he would have seen Aziraphale staring at him. Aziraphale wanting to reach out but not quite daring. He would have seen the utter love and acceptance in Aziraphale’s eyes. But they were shut against the burning.

“O serpent heart, hid with a flowering face!  
Did ever dragon keep so fair a cave?  
Beautiful tyrant! fiend angelical!  
Dove-feather'd raven! wolvish-ravening lamb!  
Despised substance of divinest show!  
Just opposite to what thou justly seem'st,  
A damned saint, an honourable villain!  
O nature, what hadst thou to do in hell,  
When thou didst bower the spirit of a fiend  
In moral paradise of such sweet flesh?  
Was ever book containing such vile matter  
So fairly bound? O that deceit should dwell  
In such a gorgeous palace!”

And Crowley nearly fell from his chair. Juliet was locked in now. Married. Aziraphale was not. Aziraphale knew he was a serpent, knew he was Hell incarnate. How could one care for one such as himself? He waited for Juliet to inevitably run away. Escape this horrid marriage. Find a way out, for why, why would someone ever want a serpent?

But no. Crowley watched as Juliet not only defended Romeo, but accepted him back. He found himself jealous that the two were able to spend a night together. Would you spend a night with me angel, if you could? Would it be worth it for even a single night? He shot a glance at Aziraphale who was now rigid in his seat again. Eyes betraying nothing but staring straight ahead. What are you hiding behind those pools of blue, angel?

And then hope. They were going to run away. Perhaps they could make it. This needn’t be one of the gloomy ones after all. Shakespeare did sometimes give hope. He watched Juliet take her potion. He wished briefly it was so easy to sneak an angel away from Heaven. Would you come, angel?

No. No it was all going wrong. Paris and then Romeo descending to the tomb. He wanted to shout. He wanted to say something, anything to stop this. He understood the heartbreak far too well, but Juliet would need him. He tore his eyes from the scene playing out in front of him and this time he couldn’t help but stare at the angel. He saw a tear roll down Aziraphale’s cheek with Romeo’s death.

Crowley screamed inside his head.

The angel, his angel. His angel was crying. His angel was crying with Romeo’s death and what did it mean.

It took everything Crowley had to not leap out of his seat at Juliet’s death. Instead he felt himself freeze. He was sure he was white as a sheet. From his side he saw Aziraphale slowly lift a hand toward him, and then lower it down again before reaching out.

Then they were exiting the theater side by side, neither daring to say a word. Crowley had some vague awareness of saying goodbye and getting away from Aziraphale’s gaze. Angel, angel be mine but no. Not at that cost. Never at that cost.

As soon as Aziraphale was out of sight, Crowley found himself stumbling, nearly falling on his way back to his room. He finally floundered into his room, and managed to get the door shut before he gradually slid down the door and onto the floor. He curled into a ball, and he cried.

He let go of every dream he had of running away. He couldn’t hold onto them tonight. Not after that. Crowley would do anything he needed to, but he couldn’t risk Aziraphale. The angel could never be at risk. He could never ask for that. And so he let himself cry.

Not so far away, an angel did the same.

Crowley didn’t take home a souvenir that night. He didn’t want one. He never wanted to remember that again.

But the next morning, the angel sought him out. He invited him out to lunch. They both went back to pretending nothing was wrong.

Crowley could tell Aziraphale was trying to cheer him up. He was nearly succeeding at that. Time in the angel’s company- and then he saw Juliet lifeless. He blinked it away. Angel, his angel was here.

And then Aziraphale succeeded in the most ridiculous way possible.

“I’ve been learning magic!”

“What?”

Crowley didn’t want to hope. He wanted to get away from Aziraphale right now. He felt the chain against his chest and thought of nothing but keeping Aziraphale safe. But Aziraphale’s eyes were staring into his.

“Oh yes, just… you know. Simple things. Like.”

Aziraphale reached towards his face. Crowley followed his hand movement as he pretended to pull a coin from his ear. He wasn’t very good at it, the coin had been in his hand the whole time.

But Aziraphale was smiling at him, proud of his magic trick. The smile was so genuine, Crowley wanted to never forget it.

He reached up and took the coin from Aziraphale. “Almost like you miracled it, angel. Are you sure you didn’t?” Crowley slipped the coin into his pocket, still staring at Aziraphale’s face and smile, committing it to memory. Please angel, don’t go. Don’t ever go.

Aziraphale smiled and laughed as he showed Crowley a few more tricks. One actually involved a real dove that he’d somehow shoved up his sleeve. Utterly ridiculous. So completely charming. Crowley hated that he loved the angel even more than he had. But he also loved it.

Aziraphale seemed to know that he didn’t want to be alone. They spent a rare, full day together. An early lunch, the makeshift magic show, and then a simple walk in the park. They shared stories. As dusk fell Aziraphale sighed.

“I suppose we should head home for the evening.”

Crowley nodded.

“Crowley.” Aziraphale waited until Crowley was looking up at him. “We… we aren’t characters in a play. Neither of us are.” And then the angel reached out and took his hand. Crowley tried to keep his face a calm mask. Aziraphale was touching him and he wasn’t quite sure what to do with that or his words.

And then Aziraphale was smiling at him gently and somehow he made it through the good nights and watched the angel walk away back towards the village.

He sat where Aziraphale had left him on the small side trail. He held the coin and thought of the angel’s joyful smile.

\--------------------  
** Modern Day **

Recognition dawned in Aziraphale’s face and Crowley smiled. And then the angel’s face turned into a frown. “I … I don’t know why you kept this Crowley.”

“What?”

“It was… it was from that day after that blasted Shakespeare play.” Crowley realized neither of them had spoken the name in centuries. “All I could think of was how to keep you from doing something incredibly stupid. And how much I loved you.”

“Aziraphale…”

“No, just. I never… Crowley we watched that play and I watched your face and I’d have been a fool not to see the pain in it. I could barely keep myself contained, but you were just radiating everywhere. Shakespeare was sitting smug in his corner watching us, did you notice that? And the two characters they… they tried to do what I’d always hoped we could in a way. Or kept as a last resort. Day dreamed about at the least.”

“Alpha Centauri.”

“I couldn’t hope for that my dear. Not after that play. Not after seeing how running away failed them. I couldn't risk you.” And now Aziraphale was crying and it was Crowley’s fault because all he had thought about was the angel’s smile. And he was turning and straddling Aziraphale now, pulling his head against his chest, running his hand through his curls.

“Shh. Shh. Angel I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I know dear it’s just, I could never get that image out of my head. Of waking and finding you gone and then you had asked for Holy Water and-” Aziraphale gulped.

Crowley leaned down to kiss his forehead, kiss his cheeks. To try to kiss the tears away.

“Do you know why I kept that coin, Aziraphale? It wasn’t because of the damnable play. It was because of you.” 

Aziraphale looked up at him.

“It was the first time you showed me one of your silly magic tricks. Your first ever. You pulled a coin from my ear.”

And now Aziraphale was smiling through the tears. Crowley gently brushed his cheek with his hand.

“You made me smile again. We spent the whole day together. That was rare back then. But we did and you made me smile and-”

Aziraphale grabbed his scarf and pulled him down into a kiss. Aziraphale’s kiss was needy and deep and everything Crowley longed to give to him. He let his body bend, sinking down into it. The angel’s arms up around his back, pulling him closer.

Crowley felt as much as he heard Aziraphale whimper during the kiss. Crowley pulled back slowly and looked down at his angel.

“I’m right here, Aziraphale. I’m not going anywhere.”

Crowley shifted, sitting across Aziraphale’s lap now. Wrapping his arms around the angel. Curling into the angel’s arms as Aziraphale naturally responded.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale paused and seemed to consider his words. “Do you have any souvenirs from when you fell in love with me?”

Crowley kissed the angel’s jawline softly. “I can do you one better.”

“How’s that?”

“That moment was sad, angel. I knew I’d fallen for you, but I couldn’t believe that there was anyway anything could come of it. So I tried to ignore it. But-” Crowley snapped and a single white feather appeared in his hand. He watched Aziraphale’s eyes widen slightly as he realized it was one of his own. “I have one from the first time I realized there was a chance you could love me too. The first time I had real hope."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still with me?
> 
> I didn't expect to get this chapter up THIS FAST but I'd actually already written most of it one random day while I was contemplating their reaction to Romeo and Juliet. I just... tweaked it to fit this fic as I'd never posted it.
> 
> I promise the next chapter will be both lighter and heavier.


	4. The Feather

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The rain may have fallen for forty days but the flood waters didn’t rise immediately. Crowley had walked away from Aziraphale formulating a plan. He didn’t consider how bad the plan was, really. Just that it was needed. Just that he would go crazy if he didn’t do something."

Aziraphale let his wings out, wrapping them gently around Crowley. “You know dear, you could have a feather anytime you want.”

Crowley smiled as he ran his hand down one of Aziraphale’s wings, then down a long primary feather. “I know, angel. But this one I kept before I had permission. Evil being, me.”

Aziraphale shivered at the touch. “Very demonic demon. Properly demoning.”

Crowley tried to keep a straight face and then burst out laughing. “I’m as good a demon as you are an angel.” And with that he leaned in for a languid kiss.

“So where did you get this one feather?”

“Well, it was five thousand years ago.”

“You’ve been holding onto it that long?”

Crowley nodded as he buried his head in Aziraphale’s chest.

“Why?”

He mumbled, barely audible. “Told you. First time I thought maybe there was hope. First time I let myself believe that.”

“Tell me?”

Crowley smiled and sat up.

\--------------------------

**3004 BC**

Crowley was surrounded by about twenty children. All the ones he could find. The youngest carried in his arms. They were making their way quickly back to the raft he’d spent the last three days crafting with a combination of work and miracles.

The rain may have fallen for forty days but the flood waters didn’t rise immediately. Crowley had walked away from Aziraphale formulating a plan. He didn’t consider how bad the plan was, really. Just that it was needed. Just that he would go crazy if he didn’t do something.

Aziraphale was standing at the raft. Crowley froze. This was a complication he didn’t anticipate. While he knew the angel was special and that he had feelings he shouldn’t for him, he didn’t know how he’d respond to this blatant disregard for the plan.

The angel was running his hands along one of the railings Crowley had added to the raft, whispering something.

“Aziraphale.”

The angel’s head shot up. It turned to look at him. “I had heard you were gathering children. I came to see why, Crawly.”

Crowley held back the flinch at the name he despised. There were bigger problems.

“What are you doing?”

“Doesn’t every ocean worthy vessel deserve a bit of a blessing?”

“You’re… blessing my raft?”

“Didn’t know it was yours. Just found it. Thought it was a very seaworthy vessel.” Aziraphale’s eyes fell on the children spread behind Crowley.

“If you, er. Need me. You do remember how to summon me? By name?”

Crowley nodded. And then Aziraphale was walking away. He spared a smile for the children as he did so. Crowley noted the water that had simply been soaking his feet was starting to move up to his ankles. He hurried the children onto the raft. They waited.

\--

A week later Crowley was desperate. The raft was holding together well enough, but the waves that came with the storm were unrelenting. Most of the children had gotten over the seasickness, but Crowley thanked whatever deity was helping him that he’d thought to add railings or he’d have lost more than few of them over the side.

Now he was crouching, his wings spread as far as he could stretch them, surrounding the children. Keeping them from the rain as best he could. But it was open ended. He couldn’t encircle the whole group. They were wet and scared and Crowley was worried one of the waves may knock one of the weaker ones overboard.

He thought of what Aziraphale said. He wondered if he could trust the angel, truly. Turning a blind eye was one thing, but actually helping was another. Then he realized he had no choice, he couldn’t do this on his own.

He whispered some words in a language he hadn’t spoken since the Fall, ending with the word “Aziraphale.”

Then he waited.

Minutes later the angel was swooping down. He took in the sight of Crowley and the children and landed on the opposite side of the raft. His wings flared out, and over. White feathers intertwined with Crowley’s black ones. Blue eyes stared into snake yellow.

Crowley breathed a sigh of relief as the next wave hit Aziraphale’s back and wing instead of the children. Aziraphale glowed lightly, letting off some warmth. The children relaxed in the glow, finally drying off for the first time in days.

Crowley smiled as he looked at the angel, and was met with a soft smile in return. Neither spoke to the other. Both wondered what would happen if they were found.

Crowley miracled all the food, keeping Aziraphale under the radar as much as possible. But by day two, Aziraphale couldn’t help but notice how bored the children were.

That was how the stories started.

At first it was just Aziraphale. The stories made the children smile and laugh despite the storm raging around them.

Eventually Crowley launched into his own stories. His began around a garden. One that was far up on top of a mountain where only some could find it.

The children of course didn’t notice that the original character in the story bore a resemblance to the angel shielding them. They of course had also never seen Aziraphale’s body crackle with what Crowley could only describe as lightning, even though it was a more divine source.

Aziraphale and Crowley seemed to try to one up each other on the stories for awhile. If Aziraphale inspired a certain lightning character living on the mountain, then surely Crowley inspired Aziraphale’s story of the melancholic one who was separated from the rest. And had an affinity for fire.

Eventually a whole cast of characters was built up. Some inspired by angels and demons the two knew, some unique creations. Some of the older children launched into their own stories built off the ones Crowley and Aziraphale started.

Sometimes the two would look at each other, daring the other to counter their stories. Or to come up with something more inventive.

Despite the circumstances, Crowley found himself laughing. And he was delighted the first time he made Aziraphale laugh.

A few days after the rain stopped, he watched a shudder go through Aziraphale.

“I’ve got to go. I’m being called. I’ll come back when I can, though I think you’re safe now.”

He wasn’t wrong. With the end of the storm, the water was calming. They’d actually been lowering their wings for portions of the day to let the children get some sunlight now. While it was an endless sea of blue in every direction, things were stable.

Crowley nodded. And he stared into Aziraphale’s eyes as the angel took flight.

He returned a few days later, spouting some nonsense about a bird and a bit of a tree and how the waters should be going down quickly.

They didn’t need to crouch over the children protectively anymore. Really Aziraphale needn’t be there at all. Yet his wings were still out and lightly brushing Crowley’s as they sat near each other. Still telling stories.

Crowley marveled that the angel was still there. And if he didn’t have feelings for the angel before, he knew he did now. The angel that didn’t ask questions, but did the right thing. Seemingly heedless of whatever the great plan was. 

The angel that didn’t flinch while meeting his eyes. And laughed at his ridiculous stories.

Crowley let himself wonder for the first time if Aziraphale was truly enjoying his company. Certainly he’d stayed initially for the children, but there was no excuse now. Not truly. The only reason he would have had was Crowley.

Like everything, this too had to come to an end. As they started seeing bits of land poke up, Aziraphale sighed. 

“I’ve been gone too long. I’m meant to be helping Noah and his family you know. I should at least be there when they make landfall at long last.”

Crowley nodded. “Of course, angel.”

Crowley watched Aziraphale take off. As he did, a feather fell loose and fluttered back down. Crowley reached out and caught it. He stared at it for a moment wondering and hoping. Then he tucked the feather inside a pouch hanging from his neck.

He turned back to the children. He watched them tell stories and smiled. In a few days they’d finally be off this raft, and he’d help them until they had things in hand.

\-------------------------  
**Modern Day**

“You remember the flood?” Crowley looked up at Aziraphale.

He watched Aziraphale’s eyes widen.

“Oh yes. And that rickety raft. You know, it’s a good thing I came and blessed that thing when I did. It was near falling apart before the storm even hit.”

“Well, I never was much of a carpenter. But you came. Like a storybook angel from Heaven.”

“I was a literal angel from Heaven.”

“Well yes, but the storybook ones are much nicer.”

Aziraphale tried to keep his face straight. “Angels are quite nice.”

Crowley stared at him, one eyebrow raised.

Aziraphale sighed. “In theory?”

Crowley ran his hand lightly down Aziraphale’s wing, staring at the angel. Watching his eyes widen and his body shiver. He hadn’t had much excuse to touch Aziraphale’s wings over the years.

“You came, angel. And you intertwined your wings with those of a demon to save a handful of children on a rickety raft. That was enough, really. I mean I’d already known you were different, and that cemented it.”

Crowley paused and began to gently preen through the feathers. Setting any straight that weren’t. Aziraphale gasped at the touch.

“But then you started telling stories. Do you know how terrified I was? I knew Hell wouldn’t approve despite my excuses. But really I was more concerned with letting those kids down. Stupid. Humans kill more than that on the daily. But those ones, I just couldn’t. There was so much going on, but those I could save. And you were there helping me. You were there, just because I was there. It made me hope you were there for me.”

Aziraphale reached out. One hand paused Crowley’s. The other touched his face gently, turning it so their eyes were meeting again.

“Crowley, it was the first time you showed you not only weren't evil but were good. Don’t look at me like that. At first I thought it was a trick. Some sort of clever temptation. But then I saw the desperation in your face and theirs, and what was I to do? There was an utterly unique being in front of me challenging all of my notions and beliefs. I'd enjoyed your company before, but I couldn’t turn away from that.”

Crowley smiled. “Can’t much turn away from you now, either.”

“No, I suppose not my dear.”

Crowley reverently put the feather on the side table, then turned back to Aziraphale. While he was turning Aziraphale had shifted and now their faces were inches away, and Crowley couldn’t help but take advantage of this.

They kissed, wrapped tightly in a sea of white feathers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: Okay, I'm going to take my time and write this long fic. No rush!  
Also me: Let's just... keep obsessively writing.
> 
> I really do have to sew tomorrow and work. So it may be a couple days before the next chapter up. Hopefully the last few make up for that.


	5. The Thermos and the Mona Lisa Sketch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One chapter, two souvenirs? We've finally made it off the couch at least! And into the office, where Aziraphale finds a surprise. And also a sketch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brief mention of period homophobia/oppression in this chapter

Crowley stretched and sat up. “More wine? There’s a stash in the backroom.”

Aziraphale stood. “Will I find more souvenirs if I go looking?”

“Maybe. If you find one, I’ll tell you about it if you like.”

Aziraphale was halfway down the hall before Crowley remembered he’d have to walk past the office to get to the wine. He twisted to look at Aziraphale just as he saw Aziraphale freeze at the office door.

“Crowley?” Pain twisted Aziraphale’s voice as he looked at what was left of Ligur, now a dried pile of demon on the ground.

Crowley was on his feet in less than a heartbeat, and had his arms wrapped around the angel in the next. He pulled Aziraphale away from the door.

“Crowley, what-”

“Nothing to worry about. Just what’s left of Ligur.”

Crowley realized this was the wrong thing to say as Aziraphale froze. 

“What’s left?”

Crowley cringed. He hadn’t told him. Hadn’t seen the reason to. Stupid, stupid to not have cleaned up the mess faster. Not that he’d let Aziraphale out of his sight for longer than a few minutes since he had him back, but-

“Crowley, what’s left?”

“Remember that holy water you gave me all those years ago?”

Aziraphale nodded slowly, looking back over his shoulder at the door.

“I did say I needed it for protection.”

He watched Aziraphale’s eyes widen, darting from Crowley and trying to look back over his shoulder at the door he now couldn’t see.

Crowley sighed. “Just… stay here. Let me clean it up. It’ll only take a second.”

Crowley was stopped by Aziraphale’s hand on his shoulder and was caught off guard by the light in the angel’s eyes. “Absolutely not! That’s holy water, Crowley you’re not going anywhere near-” Aziraphale’s voice cracked as he shot out his arms and wrapped them around Crowley, halting the demon from moving anywhere.

Crowley gently placed his arms around Aziraphale, rubbing his back in small circles. “Shh. Shh. Aziraphale. It’s fine. Water’s long since evaporated. Utterly safe. Might sting a bit if I step on it but-”

Aziraphale met his eyes with a hardened glare that Crowley had never seen. Crowley fell silent.

“I had to spend decades worrying about what you’d do with that thermos of water, so bear with me and my slight-” Aziraphale’s voice turned sarcastic for the next word “overprotectiveness. But you will not move from this spot, and I will go clean up… whatever that is. This is not a negotiation. Nothing in that room will hurt me. Do you understand?”

Crowley simply nodded. The angel seemed to stare into his eyes measuring him before he let go and turned down the hall. He watched Aziraphale snap his fingers and assumed the worst of Ligur would be gone. Much as Crowley wanted to follow, true to his word he didn’t move as the angel disappeared into the office. He tried counting in his head to keep himself calm as he waited. Aziraphale was right, there was nothing that physically harm him in that room and yet.

Aziraphale’s voice carried. “You can come in now, my dear.”

Crowley was right, there was a bit of a sting as he walked over the spot in the carpet. Consecrated ground in his own flat now. He would have hissed, but he was too busy looking at the angel that was holding a thermos in his hand, the other gently tracing the tartan pattern.

“Any water left in the thermos had evaporated. Utterly safe now.”

Aziraphale was still staring at the thermos. Crowley crossed the room and put his hands over Aziraphale’s, and then slowly pulled the thermos from his hands. He tried for a smile. “One of the more special souvenirs I’ve collected.”

“Yes, I suppose so.”

Aziraphale still wasn’t looking at him. He walked the thermos back over to where the safe and Mona Lisa sketch were still cracked open and put it safely where it’d been for decades, carefully closing the door and ensuring the sketch was covering it.

Then he turned to look at Aziraphale again. The angel still wasn’t looking at him. “Aziraphale?”

Crowley closed the distance between them and put his hand under Aziraphale’s chin. Gently encouraging his face to look upward. Waiting until their eyes met. When Aziraphale’s eyes finally met his, he understood why he’d been hiding them. The pain and fear radiating from them was palpable.

“Aziraphale, look at me. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere. Just a little insurance, angel. That’s all.”

And finally whatever wall Aziraphale had been holding seemed to break and suddenly Crowley found himself with not only angel arms wrapped around him but wings as well and curls brushing his face as Aziraphale’s head rested on his chest. Aziraphale was shaking. Crowley manifested his own wings and wrapped them around the angel, intertwining their feathers. “Shh, angel. Right here.”

Crowley wasn’t sure how long they stood there. Didn’t matter to him really, he’d give Aziraphale as long as he needed. He understood the fear that was striking Aziraphale all too deeply. His may have been flames instead of water, but it was there.

Eventually the angel stopped shaking. Crowley used that as an excuse to start peppering the top of his head with kisses. He heard a strangled laugh from below and finally, finally the angel was turning his face upwards. Crowley took advantage of the new position to continue his series of kisses, framing Aziraphale’s face. First kissing along his brow, then down round one eye and cutting across the cheekbone to kiss his nose.

He was relieved when Aziraphale finally smiled.

Aziraphale rested his head on Crowley’s shoulder, but this was less desperate and more relaxed. Crowley reached up to gently play with Aziraphale’s curls, softly kissing his forehead. Aziraphale let out a soft sigh.

After a time, Aziraphale glanced over Crowley’s shoulder at the wall the thermos had disappeared into. “Is that an actual da Vinci?”

“Mmm. Yes. You would have liked him, he was interesting.”

“You knew him?”

“Quite well.”

Aziraphale smiled. “There were all sorts of rumors that went around about him at the time. Should have known you were there being a demonic influence.”

Crowley snickered. “Oh, Leo didn’t need any of my help there. I did say he was interesting.”

\-------------------------------

**1503 - Leonardo da Vinci’s Studio**

Crowley was spread across one of the lounge chairs Leonardo da Vinci used for clients. Leonardo was trying to convince him to show him his wings again.

“Leo, no. It’s not going to do any good, anyway. You told me there must be some form of magic involved since they’re clearly not properly sized to carry my weight.”

“But the feather shape! I didn’t sketch them well enough and-”

Crowley sighed. He knew how afternoons with Leonardo would go. If he didn’t let him have what he wanted, he’d be indignant and questioning the rest of the day. Of course, he’d be indignant and questioning anyway. That was just Leonardo da Vinci. It was why Crowley liked him.

Crowley turned his back to him and let his wings manifest spreading them as wide as they’d reach.

He heard the joyful gasp and then the noise of pencil on paper.

After a time Leonardo spoke from behind him. “They truly are magnificent! I don’t know why you don’t use them on a regular basis.”

“Not all the humans are as accepting as you, Leo. I don’t need to cause a ruckus every time I go down the street.”

“Pah. They’d adjust quickly enough when they took in the obsidian beauty!” Leonardo shrugged. “Or they’d arrest you for something. Did I ever tell you the story about how I got arrested for sodomy?”

“You didn’t, but I can completely understand why.”

Leonardo’s head peeked out around the side of Crowley’s wing, a wicked grin on his face. “Oh my demonic friend, you understand simply having too many questions. Why should we limit the human experience? You can fold them in, I’ve got the sketches now though-” Leonardo looked at the wings as Crowley folded them in with a morose sigh.

“How are the plans coming for your flying machine?”

And the moroseness was gone from Leonardo’s face replaced with the normal combination of curiosity and question found there. He turned to his desk and let his hand run down a series of journals until he was selected one, opening it and quickly flipping through the pages.

“It comes, my friend. I don’t know that it will ever be built during my lifetime. And when they do get around to making them, they won’t be as beautiful as yours. But one day, humans will take to the sky.” He held the open journal out to Crowley. 

Crowley accepted it with reverence. Centuries around the angel had taught him to use caution with any written material. “This wing shape does seem awfully familiar for you being so insistent that my wings couldn’t possibly work.”

Leonardo shrugged. “Whoever builds these will have to start somewhere. I don’t plan to make anymore war machines, not after that” He paused “Experience. If I could find someone to fund these so I could test them, then maybe I could find a design that would be more efficient. But until then” he shrugged “Sketches and notes will have to do.”

Leonardo smiled. “Speaking of which, I have something for you.” He went back to his desk, carefully pulling out a sketch. “This one is just a rough rendering, but I think I shall try to construct her again, this time with paint. But I thought this one you may like.”

He held a sketch out to Crowley who took it gently. “She looks an awful lot like you.”

“Yes, yes. I used myself as the model. I was curious how I would appear if I were not locked into this particular body. That’s one reason she is for you. You’re the one who showed me that is possible, what with your ways. But her eyes and mouth, study them.”

And Crowley did. The hint of a smile at her lips that seemed to disappear if you studied it. The eyes that were hiding either some mischief or happiness behind him, but he wasn’t sure which.

“They’re lovely, Leo.”

“They are how you look when you speak of the one you will not name.” And here Leonardo’s voice changed into a more serious tone as he faced his friend.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Ha. If you could see your face. You think you hide behind those glasses, but I have seen you when they are off and when you speak of him. It is a him, yes?”

Crowley tried desperately not to think of Aziraphale. Had he been that obvious?

“What is the hold up? Life is for living.”

“You know who I am, Leonardo. You know what I am.”

“And he is not?”

Crowley simply shook his head.

“And you are letting this stop you?”

“Leonardo, even if he feels the same they would destroy both of us if they found out.”

“Perhaps. But you seem to be an expert on not letting things be found out. And shouldn’t you give him the choice as well? To do what he will his life.”

Crowley sighed. He looked down at the sketch again. He wasn’t sure if it was mocking him, or if it was simply in his head.

Then Leonardo’s hand was on his shoulder. “My friend, life and love are both fleeting. I think you may have lost sight of that with how long yours is. But you still only have one to live. It would not be a sin, but it would be a wretchedness to never look him in the eye and tell him how you truly feel. This is something I do know.”

Crowley nodded. He glanced back at the sketch and then up at Leonardo.

Leonardo seemed to sense he’d gotten his point across because suddenly he was bustling off to his work desk to pull out another book.

“Have I shown you some of my work with cartography? It’s a new hobby of sorts, but I’ve found a new use for it.”

And then Crowley was looking at a unique overhead map of a nearby village, clearly penned in Leonardo’s hand. And off the conversation went, with so many questions and never enough answers for either of them.

\----------------------  
**Modern Day**

Crowley gently pulled back and folded his wings back in. He watched Aziraphale do the same, and then gently took his hand and led him over to the Leonardo da Vinci sketch.

“This is Leo’s face, turned femine. He said I inspired him. I was going through a bit of a changing period then, couldn’t decide on an outfit for anything. But he said the eyes and mouth were caused by me.”

“I don’t quite recognize the look, though I certainly do the eyes.” Aziraphale’s hand raised to touch the sketch lightly.

“Well, I suppose you wouldn’t. He said it was how I looked when I spoke of you.”

Aziraphale’s head turned so quickly Crowley wondered if he was part snake for a moment too. “You… told Leonardo da Vinci stories of us?”

“I mean, I never used use your name, but he used to like sketching my wings.”

“Your… wings.”

Crowley nodded. “Wanted to learn to fly you see. Told me ours were all the wrong size for flying and we must be using some form of magic. Said I didn’t know, just knew that they worked.”

Aziraphale seemed to be slowly processing. He looked back at the sketch again, staring pointedly at the mouth. “You told Leonardo da Vinci stories about us while he sketched your wings.”

Crowley smiled. He placed his hand on Aziraphale’s cheek, turning him back to face him so he could look him in the eyes. “I told Leonardo da Vinci about how I was in love with someone forbidden from me. And the love came through so strongly that he took part of it to assist in making one of the most famous art pieces of all time. Then he told me that I only had one life, and that I should be spending it with you. I told him we’d both be destroyed and he told me to do it anyway. I’m glad I was wrong about the destroyed part, but I’m rather pleased that I finally took his advice.”

“Crowley…”

Crowley cut him off with a gentle kiss, unable to bear the love in the angel’s eyes. For him, he allowed himself to think just briefly. He knew his own eyes must be shining as well.

He pulled back slowly, not wanting to rush the angel if he wanted to prolong it. Aziraphale smiled. “Dinner?”

“How does a picnic sound?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry folx, I cannot handle a flash back to '67. You go too fast for me is too much for me just watching it, let alone trying to write their feelings out.
> 
> Luckily, two of the people I adore have already written these particular flash backs. If you're curious as to where Aziraphale got the water for his thermos I recommend Holy Water by Nitrostreak at https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Fab_Fallen/works/19468345
> 
> And if you're curious about Crowley's reaction, you'll want to check Stay His Hand by SeedsOfWinter at https://archiveofourown.org/works/19726762/chapters/46686838
> 
> Responsibilities? What are those when I can write another chapter. I've still got more than 10 days before I need to leave for NekoCon! Let's take the NanoWriMo challenge at the end of October in the middle of con crunch.
> 
> As I've said from the beginning, next chapter isn't written. It IS plotted. They keep wanting to escape their way out. And now I'm off to sew.


	6. The Snake Armband

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another time, another souvenir. This one from ancient Rome, with a dutifully grumpy snake demon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: There is a stabbing in this chapter. It's not serious, nor detailed, but just in case.

The next week both seemed like a moment, and seemed never ending to Aziraphale and Crowley. It was spent in picnics, dinners, and even a rare show out. Most of it was spent at an old book shop in Soho. It wasn’t that they were avoiding Crowley’s place, not really. It was just that after centuries of care, they seemed to gravitate back to the place that had been their haven for so long.

But they didn’t sit across from each other when they drank anymore. Most commonly, Aziraphale sat in the middle of the couch with Crowley somehow lounged across or leaning on him, limbs going every which way. Sometimes they were curled together, with or without a blanket. Sometimes they even managed to make it upstairs to the flat that had rarely been used prior to this last week.

Crowley hadn’t realized how utterly secure it would feel to have his body cushioned between the back of the couch and the angel. One of Aziraphale’s arms wrapped around him, the other acting as a pillow somehow for both of their heads. His eyes simply staring into the angel’s. He realized he probably had the sappiest smile. He didn’t care.

It had only been a week and every kiss still felt stolen, every touch precious.

Awhile later that may have been minutes or hours, Aziraphale slowly moved to sit up. He grabbed a throw pillow to replace his arm as Crowley’s pillow as he sat up. “I’d like to try something Crowley. I… think you’d like it.”

“Whatever you’d like, angel.”

Aziraphale smiled, then he slowly began to pull the bottom of Crowley’s shirt up. Crowley figured out what he wanted helped him pull the shirt off over his head while still laying on the couch, looking up at him curiously.

Aziraphale reached behind him and grabbed an oil bottle off the side table. Then turned back to Crowley and motioned for him to turn fully to his stomach. He straddled Crowley and began to gently massage the demon’s back.

Crowley felt himself melting under the touch. He heard a slight whimper escape his lips, Aziraphale was stronger than he thought.

Aziraphale’s hands stopped immediately. “Am I… Crowley, am I hurting you?”

Crowley felt the blush rise in his cheeks as a small groan escaped. “Uh.. yeah, but don’t stop?” He chanced a glance behind him to see Aziraphale’s face also turning red. Then he laid flat and let his back stretch out as Aziraphale’s hands began massaging again.

One hand trailed down to his arm. He knew why. Aziraphale had surely seen the serpent armband there in the last week, but they’d been too busy at the time to mention it.

Aziraphale’s voice from behind him. “Another souvenir?”

“Mmm. Of course. But you remember that one?”

“Yes, I gave it to you.”

“It was the first gift you gave me.”

\-----------------------------

**41 AD Rome**

Crowley had had a day. The temptation he was at hadn’t just failed. It had blown up spectacularly in his face. He knew he was getting stares for his attire and while normally that didn’t bother him, tonight it was grating. Part of him missed his long hair.

And then the angel was in front of him, tempting him of all things. The angel was trying to make him smile. He couldn’t help but wonder why.

He knew his feelings for Aziraphale. He knew they were dangerous, for both of them. He knew the angel enjoyed his company as well and he wonder- he stopped that thought. Thoughts like that were dangerous.

Aziraphale was inviting him out for oysters, and didn’t he realize what oysters were? He wondered if the angel would ask him for a casual fling next. He stopped that thought before it could reach regions he definitely didn’t need it reaching while in Aziraphale’s company.

He’d known he should get out of the angel’s company. Trouble would be coming to find him after that spectacular failure. Hell couldn’t let errors go unpunished. But he couldn’t bring himself to send the angel away, not when he was so soothing. Crowley knew he was in love. And he knew he was a fool.

\---

They had almost made it. Crowley was getting ready to say goodnight when a demon he didn’t recognize appeared.

The demon looked at Crowley. Then he looked at Aziraphale. He saw the demon bare their teeth and change targets nearly instantly, going for the far larger threat than one failure of a demon.

The new demon dove for Aziraphale, knife drawn. Crowley didn’t know what type of knife it was. He didn’t know if he could truly harm Aziraphale or not. He knew that he wasn’t going to let the angel be harmed regardless. Whether the angel was in love with him or not was immaterial. He was in love with the angel.

All Crowley could process was his brain screaming no. He had a thousand tricks up his sleeve that could have been used. He could have miracled Aziraphale away. He could have stopped time. He could have done so many things had his brain only had the time to get there.

It didn’t. So he did the only logical thing he could think of and threw himself between Aziraphale and the attacker.

He saw the shock in the demon’s eyes as the knife buried itself in Crowley’s arm.

Then Aziraphale was pushing him to the side and back, stepping between him and the demon. Aziraphale was glowing slightly.

Crowley didn’t see what happened next. Aziraphale’s wings were out and wrapped around him. He just heard the demon scream and then almost as quickly as it had started, Aziraphale’s wings were tucked away. The angel turned toward him, nothing but concern on his face.

“Your arm?”

Crowley hissed and turned away. He didn’t need sympathy for his own stupidity. More importantly he didn’t need the angel caught here if someone else turned up. “Sss’fine. Get out of here, angel.” He tried to add some venom to the final word. He regretted it as soon as he saw the pain in Aziraphale’s eyes. But then Aziraphale’s eyes hardened.

“Let me see your arm, please?” It was calm. Almost an order.

Crowley couldn’t hurt him again. But he could be honest. “Aziraphale, you need to get out of here. They’ll send more. I failed.” The last came out as a hiss. “It’s just punissshment. Sss’fine.”

“I’m certainly not going to leave you while you’re injured and potentially under attack, Crowley! Please, let me see your arm?” And Crowley saw some sort of break in Aziraphale’s demeanor. Some sort of desperation. He realized he wasn’t going to be able to get rid of the angel until he gave him what he wanted.

Crowley sighed and turned his body so the arm was towards Aziraphale. The knife was still embedded in it.

Aziraphale seemed to measure it for a moment. “I don’t think either of us want to be caught in me healing it with a miracle. This is probably going to hurt when I pull it out, are you ready?”

Crowley nodded, closing his eyes.

One of Aziraphale’s hands came to his arm, holding it in a vice-like grip. A small whimper escaped Crowley’s mouth despite himself. And then he felt the knife drag again as it came back out. Aziraphale’s hand was back over the cut immediately, placing pressure on it.

He heard a ripping and realized Aziraphale must be tearing a piece of his toga as suddenly it wasn’t Aziraphale’s hand, but cloth on his arm. Pressure still being applied.

He let his eyes slide open. He looked at the blood now marring Aziraphale’s white toga. All he could think was that he was relieved it was his and not Aziraphale’s blood.

After a time the angel slowly let the pressure up, then tied the bit of cloth off around Crowley’s arm. “I think the bleeding stopped. Should be fine.”

Aziraphale finally looked up meeting his eyes over the too small glasses. “Crowley… thank you.”

Crowley hissed. “I’m in enough trouble without an angel thanking me.” And he turned and stalked off into the night. He didn’t look back. He knew if he did, he would stay. He knew that was too dangerous for them both.

\---

Crowley spent the next week mostly drunk, and kept to his rooms lest the angel find him out again.

A few more demons had stopped in to challenge him. Without the angel to defend, without his brain panicking about Aziraphale’s safety he admitted, he was able to handle them easily. Hell would stop sending them before too long. It was a waste. There weren’t many down there who could challenge him, and none of them would waste their time on a failed low level temptation. Soon things would calm.

He was far too gone into the wine when he heard a knock on the door. He knew he shouldn’t answer it. He was never smart when he was drunk. He opened the door.

He had expected another demon. He hadn’t expected Aziraphale standing there. He had no idea how the angel had found him. He knew he had a sense for the angel and could find him, but the angel had never shown him he could do the same.

“It seems you’re having a bit of a week. May I come in?”

Crowley debated. Crowley realized he was indeed extremely drunk and utterly incapable of denying himself the company of the one being he wanted most to see. He took a step back, gesturing for Aziraphale to enter, and closed the door.

“I would invite you out for some wine, but it seems that unnecessary. Have you been hiding away in this room drinking by yourself all week?”

Crowley walked to the bed and threw himself down on it. “Came here to lecture me, angel? No need. I know how much of a failure I am. Was a lousy angel. Apparently I make an even worse demon. Only thing I’ve got right is-” and Crowley stopped. Even in his current state he knew he couldn’t go there. Knew he couldn’t afford to scare the angel away.

“Is?”

“S’nothing.” Crowley didn’t clarify. Instead he buried his head into the pillow. “What do you want, angel?”

It was silent for a solid minute. Crowley actually wondered if Aziraphale had left without him hearing.

“Crowley, could you sober up? At least a bit?”

Crowley considered how wise a decision that would be. The self loathing of the past week was a bit much even for him. He closed his eyes and miracled the alcohol from his system. Then he sat up. “There you go, sober me. Just as annoying as drunken me, but with a few more filters.”

“Maybe this is the wrong time for this.”

And now Crowley’s interest was piqued. Wrong time?

“Go ahead and spit it out.”

“I- I brought you something. I picked it up awhile back because it reminded me of you and well, I’d hoped you’d like it. I came today to see if you’d like to accompany me out to the baths. I thought since you’d been staying in maybe I could show you around a bit.”

“You brought me something?”

Aziraphale held out something wrapped in cloth. Crowley’s eyebrows raised. The angel had never given him a gift of any sort before. Not that they were big on gifts. The closest Crowley had ever managed was some random scrolls he thought the angel would like. He’d taken a liking to reading.

Crowley gingerly took the cloth and unwrapped it to reveal a metal coiled snake.

“They’re fashionable around here and well, I know how you like your fashion. It goes on your upper arm.”

“It’s… beautiful. Thank you.” And Crowley gingerly slid the armband up into place on his right arm, hiding where he knew there’d be a scar from the knife. “Why?”

“Like I said, I saw it and it made me think of you. And I thought you could use some cheering up.” Aziraphale smiled weakly.

Crowley tried to process all of this. Aziraphale was thinking of him when he wasn’t there. Or at the very least reminded of him. He knew it was nothing compared to how often he thought of the angel, compared to how often that face snuck into his dreams but- the angel was thinking of him. And he was here today to try to cheer him up. 

And Crowley was wallowing in a pit of self pity. If it took Aziraphale to pull him out then so be it. He forced a smile to his face. “Where’d you want to go today?”

And now Aziraphale was back on surer footing. He knew how to invite his friend out, surely. “Have you tried the baths here yet? They’re simply marvelous.”

Crowley watched the angel continue on about the peculiarities of Roman bath houses. He felt the weight of the snake on his arm. He tried to remind himself that letting himself act on his current feelings could mean death for them both. And he dreamed of it anyway.

\--------------------------------------

**Modern Day**

Aziraphale gently traced the serpent on Crowley’s arm. Then he went back to massaging the shoulder on that side, working his way down. Crowley let out another groan, this one of pure pleasure. Aziraphale smiled.

“You were sad that day.”

“I’d failed at tempting. I didn’t do that often. Don’t like failing. Then I’d put you in danger because I was enjoying your company too much to tell you to stay away.”

Aziraphale fell silent for a few minutes, massaging down Crowley’s arm, eventually reaching his hand and seeming to concentrate on every small muscle in it.

“Why did you keep a souvenir of that time then?”

Crowley softly pulled his hand from Aziraphale’s, rolling over onto his back so he could look up at the angel. “Because an angel came knocking on my door as if it was the most natural thing in the world to come see me as if I was an old friend and give me a present.” He grabbed Aziraphale’s hand and brought it to his lips to kiss gently.

He took Aziraphale’s other hand and laid it on his chest. “Because that angel also may have saved me from discorporation by some idiot low level demon just a week before.” And now he reached up to gently cup Aziraphale’s face in his hands.

“Because I knew I was a fool to fall in love where I shouldn’t, but I was in love. And I hadn’t had to steal away a feather or other object, this time you’d actually thought of me and given me a gift.”

This finally made Aziraphale smile as he bent down to kiss the demon below him. It was gentle, and soft, he rested his forehead against Crowley’s as the kiss slowly broke.

After a minute or two Aziraphale finally spoke. “I used to think of you all the time, you know. I.. I bought that gift for some rather selfish reasons. I’d hope it would make you think of me sometimes too.”

Crowley laughed lightly. “As if I ever stopped thinking of you.”

“Yes, well I didn’t know that.”

“It was dangerous.”

Aziraphaled hummed. Then tilted his head for another kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you're curious, actual serpent armband found in Pompeii: https://seetheworld.travelforkids.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/05/pompeii-golden-snake-armband.jpg
> 
> If anyone's got any tips on making one, please let me know ;)


	7. The Ribbon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another week, another souvenir. This one a simple ribbon from Essex.

It took another week before they made it back to Crowley’s apartment. Aziraphale glanced down at the demon asleep half on top of him, black silk pajamas contrasting against his own tartan outfit. His eyes lazily trailed over the room. He had planned to ask Crowley about more souvenirs, but the demon had been tired when they got here and well.

He spared another glance down at the demon asleep on him. Aziraphale smiled at the sight and let out a soft sigh.

HIs eyes went back to tracking around the room, and he wondered. Even things like the hairbrush laying out could be a souvenir for all he knew. Then his eyes narrowed as he saw a small, beige ribbon. It was tied on the edge of the mirror frame.

He stared at it wondering if it was indeed what he thought it was as his hand absentmindedly started running through Crowley’s hair. It was a little longer now that it had been recently, but still not long enough to be tied back by a ribbon.

Aziraphale smiled. He loved Crowley’s hair at any length, really. Each looked lovely. But he did love having enough to truly run his hands through again.

After a few minutes Crowley began to make pleased noises under him. Aziraphale let the gentle hair brushing turn into a soft head massage. Crowley nuzzled further into his chest, leaning into his hand.

“Hello, dearest.”

“Mmziraphale”

Aziraphale continued gently massaging Crowley’s head, simply listening to the soft murmurs. Eventually Crowley reached up and caught one of Aziraphale’s hands, bringing it to his lips for a soft kiss. Aziraphale traced his other hand through Crowley’s hair softly as Crowley nuzzled the hand he’d captured.

“Crowley?”

“Mmm.”

“Is that beige ribbon what I think it is?”

Aziraphale watched Crowley slowly open his eyes and drag them up to ribbon on the mirror. “Souvenir.” he said sleepily.

“Essex, though?”

“Of course.”

\---------------------------------

**537 AD Kingdom of West Essex**

Aziraphale didn’t know why he’d agreed to this bout, not really. He knew his followers wanted him to challenge the Black Knight. There’d be no stop to the complaints until he did.

But Aziraphale was desperate not to harm Crowley.

He knew that Crowley thought he stood a chance against him. Aziraphale knew he was wrong. Crowley may be a good fighter by demonic standards, making him an excellent fighter by human standards. But Aziraphale was made to guard the gate of Eden. He was crafted to hold a sword. He just didn’t like it very much.

He watched Crowley raise his sword and mimicked him. Then the flag was dropped and the fight had started.

Crowley was good. He wasn’t depending on brute force, knowing Aziraphale had the edge there. Instead he was depending on speed.

He wasn’t fast enough. Aziraphale quickly blocked what should have been disarming blows. He saw Crowley slow and begin to circle, thinking. Aziraphale hadn’t done anything but defense yet. At the very least, he wanted Crowley to be able to save face.

Then Crowley forced Aziraphale’s hand, clearly trying to drag him into the fight. He advanced and their helmets nearly touched with the force of it.

There was a series of clangs and movements. Aziraphale thought if they hadn’t been weighed down by armor, it would have been a dance. As it was Crowley nearly twirled. If he wasn’t careful the humans were going to catch on to reality.

Perhaps having a fight between two supernatural entities in front of the humans wasn’t their wisest decision. Aziraphale decided the best option was to end this quickly.

Finally he pressed back on Crowley, challenging him as he had been challenged. Crowley was good. But it was less than a minute before he was disarmed. He made to leap for his sword and with a sigh Aziraphale knocked him to the ground. 

He winced as he saw Crowley’s head hit the ground, he hadn’t managed to get his arms up in time, too distracted by trying to reach the sword. Aziraphale flipped him over and put his foot on his chest, blade aimed at his neck. It all felt so wrong.

“Do you yield?”

Crowley flipped his visor up. Aziraphale didn’t know he’d ever seen his golden eyes that angry. 

“Yessss.” That was definitely a hiss.

Aziraphale stepped back, repentant. Quick as a flash, Crowley was on his feet. He grabbed his sword as he stormed off into the mist.

Aziraphale felt a part inside him break.

\-----

Aziraphale went back to his tent and removed the heavy armor. His squire brought him a simple meal and with a flash of insight he sent the squire in search of some wine.

He took the time the squire was gone to clean himself up. Then he took the wine and headed back out through the mist. He didn’t need directions to Crowley’s tent. Now that he knew he was in the area, he could track his aura easily enough.

He waited outside the tent, letting his senses reach out. It was definitely only Crowley in there.

“You can come in, angel. I won’t attack you.”

Aziraphale sighed. Of course Crowley could sense him too. He pushed the tent flap to the side and walked in.

“I brought some wine, thought I ought to apologize. I shouldn’t have-”

Aziraphale stared at the shock on Crowley’s face.

“Crowley what is it?”

Crowley continued to stare. His eyes were wide. Aziraphale felt the shock rolling off him. Aziraphale rushed forward, reaching to check Crowley’s head thinking maybe he hit it harder than he let on. He let his fingers run through the red hair, feeling for any obvious cuts or bumps.

Suddenly Crowley jerked away, staring up at the angel as if in shock. “Hair, angel. It’s just your hair.”

Aziraphale took a step back, hands coming up self consciously to touch the currently long curls falling just past his shoulders. “You don’t like it?”

“Didn’t say that.”

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow. “You DO like it?”

“Definitely didn’t say that!”

Aziraphale stopped and stared at Crowley, eyebrow quirked.

“It’s nice, angel. Just caught me off guard.”

Aziraphale raised his eyes back to Crowley’s hair. “At least it’s well kept. Did you hit your head hard enough you didn’t feel like doing yours today?”

Aziraphale felt guilty immediately at the look of pain that crossed Crowley’s face. Really, he’d come here to apologize and then…

“Can I help, dear?”

“What?”

Aziraphale gestured to Crowley’s hair and waited. Crowley seemed to be staring, half in shock. Then he finally nodded.

Aziraphale was in a bit of shock himself. As a rule, the two didn’t touch. Touching was dangerous. You never knew who was watching. But Aziraphale’s hands had hurt Crowley today. It may have been at his own invitation but his heart still ached at the thought of Crowley on the ground.

Aziraphale stepped behind him and then slowly started running his hands through Crowley’s hair, brushing it out. He watched Crowley tense and then relax. He smiled. Aziraphale thought of how much he didn’t want this moment to end.

He knew he shouldn’t want to touch the demon. He even tried to convince himself it was just Crowley’s temptations working on him. He knew he was lying to himself. He cherished every hand brush. And this was a veritable feast.

He’d brushed the worst of the tangles out of Crowley’s hair. He wondered how much more he really dared, but he let his hands drift upwards. He gently massaged Crowley’s head.

A small noise of pleasure escaped the demon. Aziraphale knew he shouldn’t enjoy the sound. But if the fight had felt so wrong, this felt so right. He fought the urge to pull Crowley into his arms. He fought the urge to lean down and kiss the demon. He tried to remind himself they were enemies.

Then the image of Crowley on the ground from today came into his head and he couldn’t help think of the situation had it not been him at the other end of the sword. Hell did not send rude notes. He had to protect Crowley. No matter what they both wanted.

His heart broke in a different way as he started to pull back. He couldn’t stop. Not yet. Not from something this good, not from this much touch. He wouldn’t kiss him, wouldn’t pull him into his arms. But surely loving him wasn’t wrong? He knew Heaven would said it was but he couldn’t find it within himself to believe it wrong.

He stopped massaging Crowley’s head and instead began to gently pull Crowley’s hair back. He pulled a piece of ribbon from his own outfit and began to weave it into the hair, making an intricate design. He smiled at the red contrasting with the beige. A brief thought of red hair and cream colored skin flashed into his mind and he stopped it. He wouldn’t. He couldn’t risk Crowley.

But Aziraphale wove his ribbon into the demon’s hair, tying off in a bow at the bottom. As he finished, Crowley’s hand came up and ran down the intricate braid, ending with the ribbon. He reached Aziraphale’s hands before he could let go. And this time he didn’t brush Aziraphale’s hand.

He held it.

They stayed like that for almost a minute. Breathe in. Breathe out. Crowley’s hand grasping his. Both wondering what it meant. Both wanting to act. Both terrified to.

Finally Crowley let go, and Aziraphale stepped back around to the front. Crowley’s face was flushed as Aziraphale poured and held out the glass of wine to him. He took it silently.

  
They both drank the first glass in silence, seeming to consider what had just happened. Each committing it to memory. And then Crowley made a joke and Aziraphale found himself back on familiar footing. Their dance restored.

The next time they both slept neither would dream of the fight. They’d both dream of gentle fingers running through red hair.

\-------------------------------

**Modern Day**

“You know I went back to my tent that night and thought that I’d finally crossed the line. Heaven was going to punish me. I didn’t deserve something that wonderful.” Aziraphale let his hands trail through Crowley’s hair again.

Crowley yawned, still waking up. “Would’ve stopped em. Had a sword.”

Aziraphale chuckled, bending his head down slightly to rest in the fire-red hair.

Crowley’s words were sleep slurred. “Miss your hair, though.”

“My hair?”

“Never got to touch it long.”

Aziraphale smiled and snapped softly. His hair was back to it’s Essex length for the first time in centuries.

Crowley’s eyes popped open at the snap and narrowed on Aziraphale’s hair. His mouth fell open as he stared at the angel.

“You- your- you-”

“Do you like it?”

“Aziraphale can I-”

“Whatever you’d like, love.”

And suddenly Crowley was standing up and pulling Aziraphale to a sitting position. Then he slid in behind Aziraphale. Before Aziraphale knew what was happening, Crowley’s fingers were running through his soft curls.

“Oh god, angel. They bounce.” And Crowley pulled on curl softly down watching it bounce back up again.

And then Crowley was brushing his hands through Aziraphale’s hair and suddenly Aziraphale understood why Crowley had made that noise all those years ago. But Aziraphale didn’t need to contain himself.

Crowley paused for a moment at the first noise of pleasure that came from Aziraphale’s mouth, then he seemed to start testing and learning. And before Aziraphale knew what was going on, his head was being massaged by gentle fingers and soft moans were escaping his lips. Crowley seemed to be drinking them in.

Finally Crowley smiled and relented. He miracled a black ribbon into his hand and just like Azirazphale had all those years ago he began an intricate braid. He wove the ribbon in and around and finally tied it off at the bottom.

“Dear, you missed a little. Up by my face.”

“Nah I didn’t.”

And Crowley gently reached up to caress the few curls he’d let fall to frame the angel’s face.

Aziraphale turned and kissed him. And then fell back into Crowley’s arms as he’d wanted to do all those years ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did say I'd slow down a reasonable rate at some point, right?
> 
> Hoping to get one, possibly two chapters up before I'm gone for a week for Nekocon and personal travel.


	8. The Angel and Demon Statue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley is worried. Crowley is always worried. Aziraphale finally asks where the statue of the "fighting" angel and demon came from.

Crowley stood behind Aziraphale, twirling his hair gently between his fingers. Aziraphale sat primly on the couch, reading his book. Well, Crowley’s book really. For a demon that insisted he didn’t read, he had quite a collection hidden around his apartment.

“I’m just saying angel, some practice in self defense wouldn’t be a horrible idea given our current circumstances.”

Aziraphale sighed heavily, putting down the book in front of him to look up at the demon. “If the combined forces of Heaven and Hell come after us, you think some basic hand to hand training will help? Truly, that’s your plan?”

Crowley felt a spasm of pain go across his face at the thought of Aziraphale fighting anyone. And then his resolve hardened. “I’d rather you be well versed on protecting yourself, just in case.”

“I’m quite capable, thank you dear.” And Aziraphale lifted the book again.

Crowley muttered something.

Aziraphale deliberately closed the book, setting it down in front of him and turned to stare at the demon. “What did you say?”

“Nothing.”

“Really, because it sounded a lot like you said the statue down the hall said otherwise. Is there something you’d like to tell me about that statue? Souvenir, perhaps?”

\-------------------------

**1501 - A Small Village**

Crowley didn’t want to be here. Didn’t want to be part of whatever demonic temptation was afoot. And yet he realized he needed to be to save face. He sighed and let Hastur, Ligur, and the rest go off into the village proper while he sat on the outskirts. He gave the excuse of he would handle anyone who dared escape.

He kept his back to the village. If anyone managed to escape whatever was going on there tonight, he certainly wouldn’t begrudge them sneaking off into the shadows.

Then he saw a figure walking towards the village. He took a moment to reflect on the idiocy of humans. Couldn’t they sense there was evil about tonight? He wondered if he could somehow simply scare them away without tipping off the demons inside who could come out at any moment.

As the figure drew closer, he realized the shape and gait were familiar.

He cursed.

The angel had the absolute worst timing. Or best. He certainly could feel the evil about and was probably there to try to help. 

Crowley considered options. Aziraphale was close enough now, someone else was bound to sense him. He had to make this look convincing. Whatever else happened, he had to make it look real enough to keep them both safe.

He felt the chain on his chest. He hoped Aziraphale would forgive him. He ran at the angel, bracing himself for impact.

Crowley yelled. “Heavenly menace, be gone with you!” as he slammed into Aziraphale knocking him to the ground. He saw the hurt in Aziraphale’s eyes as he hit the ground. Crowley was careful not to injure the angel, he didn’t want him hurt. He just needed him to run. To get away from here before the others came to investigate. He cringed when both their wings instinctively came out as they fell to the ground.

“Crowley, what-”

“YOU THOUGHT YOU COULD INTERRUPT OUR EVIL DOINGS?” Crowley made a show of pretending to hit the angel, his fist falling as a gentle caress.

Aziraphale was not a fool. He looked up at the demon, realization dawning in his face.

Crowley yelled again. “We will have you tonight! You’re MINE now, ANGEL!” and then he let his wings drape down briefly, covering their faces and dropped his face next to Aziraphale’s and whispered so only the angel could hear. “You need to run. There’s too many. It’s too dangerous. Fight back, then run.”

Aziraphale’s eyes met his and the angel nodded. Crowley didn’t recognize the look in his eyes. His hold on Aziraphale’s hands had never been strong, never been controlling. He knew that wasn’t necessary. Crowley knew it was dangerous, but he brought one hand and let it trace Aziraphale’s face, hoping the wings were fully shielding them from anyone looking.

The look in Aziraphale’s eyes changed. Crowley didn’t have time to wonder what that change was. He didn’t have time to wonder at what he had just done. He gently squeezed Aziraphale’s hand with the one still holding his hands down and shouted again. “You’ll never escape!”

Aziraphale nodded, taking the hint. Suddenly Crowley felt Aziraphale’s hands disappear from his as Aziraphale swept his legs out, knocking Crowley off. He fell with a grunt, realizing he’d probably bruised his wing. Small price to pay.

And then the angel was taking to the sky. Crowley took off after him, giving a token chase. Aziraphale outstripped him quickly and Crowley returned to his post outside the gate as if nothing had happened.

Eventually one of the demons poked their head out.

“What’s going on out there?”

“Just an angel. Scared him off, but the blasted thing got away.”

“Any humans?”

“Nah.”

The demon nodded and disappeared back into the city. Crowley leaned against the wall, wondering where Aziraphale was. He closed his eyes for a few moments, thinking of white wings against a starry night sky.

He didn’t realize there was a human that had escaped. And he’d been watching everything.

\-----

A few weeks later, Crowley spotted Aziraphale in the market. He walked up, tapping him on the opposite shoulder. He didn’t know whether to be pleased or put out that Aziraphale instantly turned to his left with a smile.

And then Aziraphale was off, inviting him to the new local tavern. Apparently the cook there did amazing things with average foods and the wine was superb.

Neither mentioned the mock fight. Crowley fought the urge to allow his eyes to linger on where he’d brushed Aziraphale’s face. On where his hands had held his. On how his body had been- He forced that train of thought to stop. He reminded himself he needed to keep Aziraphale safe, no matter his own wants.

They spent the day like they had so many others, and Crowley enjoyed every minute. Aziraphale was right, the food was somehow better even though it was the standard fare. After their meal, Aziraphale’s hand somehow found his under the table. It gave a gentle squeeze, much like the one Crowley had given him.

And then they were saying goodnight. After their goodbyes, Crowley found himself wandering back through the quieting marketplace. Many were packing up to go home. There was one stand where Crowley saw the man’s eyes widen as he approached.

Crowley wasn’t sure what was alarming the human. His eyes were covered. He was dressed in appropriate garb for what the men were wearing, not wanting to deal with the questioning glances. But Crowley was forever curious and approached the stall.

It was then that he saw the statue.

Crowley could be good at maintaining a straight face when need be. He did, after all, lie to Hell on the regular both about his activities and his knowledge of a certain angel.

Right now, his jaw dropped as he stared at the statue of what could only be himself and Aziraphale. The red haired, black winged demon fighting with the blond and white winged angel looked much like he imagined they did just a few weeks back. Then he paused. He realized the artist had sculpted them as if they were fighting, but the red haired demon had his hand on the white winged angel’s cheek.

Someone had seen. Not only had he seen, but he’d crafted this… this thing. Crowley continued to stare. The stall owner was hurriedly beginning to close up shop.

“So sorry, we’re closing-”

“How much?”

“What?”

“The statue, how much?”

The man stared at Crowley. He named a price that was far too high, and Crowley didn’t even bother to negotiate as he miracled the money, pulling it from a pocket. He didn’t give the man a second glance as he walked away, carrying the statue back to the small hut he currently called home.

He spent the rest of the evening staring at it. He wondered what it meant. He wondered if he dared keep it. He wondered if he’d ever feel Aziraphale that close again.

\----------------------------------------------

**Modern Day**

Aziraphale had shifted his body and was staring at Crowley over the top of his reading glasses. Crowley gulped. “You were going to tell me about the statue, my dear?”

“Angel, have you… have you ever looked closely at that statue?”

Aziraphale quirked an eyebrow and then stood, heading down the hallway to where he knew the statue was. He’d seen it before in passing of course. He thought it was Crowley’s idea of a joke. A demon fighting an angel and winning.

He bent down to get a closer look at the statue, and then he gasped. Aziraphale reached out and gently touched the statue where the demon was touching the angel’s cheek. Then his hand raised to his own face and he turned to look at Crowley. “It’s us? Did you… did you make this? Commission it?”

“Someone saw, angel. Remember how we met up a few weeks later? Afterwards I was walking through the marketplace and..” Crowley gestured at the statue. “The proprietor seemed terrified. So I took it off his hands.”

“I hope you paid him.”

“A more than fair price. I debated whether I should keep it for a long time, but I thought anyone that didn’t look closely would just see them fighting and well….” Crowley trailed off, staring at his angel still halfway kneeling on the floor.

“And this is why you think I need practice? Because I didn’t fight back adequately that night?”

Crowley ran through a litany of things he could say. He didn’t want to hurt Aziraphale’s feelings, but he worried. He knew the angel must be able to fight on some level, but he’d never seen it. Instead he simply nodded.

Before he knew what had hit him, Aziraphale had him on his back on the floor with his arms pinned. “Can you get free or would you like another chance?”

Crowley wondered if he was an idiot. He also considered that he was in love with a proper bastard of an angel. Still, he did what any proper demon would do. He cheated.

A split second later he was a snake and wrapped around Aziraphale, pinning his arms. Aziraphale pushed his arms out and Crowley was shocked that he couldn’t keep them pinned to the angel’s side. Aziraphale was stronger than he expected. No matter.

A heartbeat later he was in human form again, and before Aziraphale could respond he was twisting the angel’s arms back into a pinned hold as he shoved him against the wall.

Aziraphale grunted and stayed still for a moment.

“Ready to give in, angel?”

“No dear, just trying to figure out how to do this without hurting you.”

“Don’t worry about me, I want to see that you can get free in case-” Crowley stopped himself. And lost his concentration for a moment. A moment was all Aziraphale needed and Crowley somehow found himself flipped up against the wall above Aziraphale and gradually sliding downwards.

The angel caught him in his arms in a bridal carry with a small laugh. “Are you alright? Hurt?”

“M’fine. Where did you…”

“They don’t let just anyone guard the gate to Eden, my dear.” And with that Aziraphale bent his head down and Crowley took the opportunity to wrap his arms around his neck and pull him closer as they kissed.

“You mean to tell me I could have been carried all this time, no need to walk, and you were holding out on me?”

“Couldn’t have a spoiled serpent, you’re already intolerable at times.” Aziraphale nuzzled Crowley’s neck and began to gently kiss it.

Crowley let out a small gasp and shuddered in the angel’s arms. “You like me.”

The kisses broke long enough for Aziraphale to smile. “I do.” 

And then Aziraphale was carrying Crowley back down the hallway to the couch and sitting down, with Crowley still in his arms. Crowley pulled the blanket down from the back of the couch wrapping the two of them as he curled into Aziraphale’s arms.

Aziraphale’s hand was on his cheek. “Love, don’t worry. It will be fine. And if something does happen, we’ll face it together.”

Crowley felt a bit of warmth grow in his chest. “Together.”

He relaxed into the angel’s arms and let himself rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would love to say I'll get another chapter in before I leave for Halloween parties, NekoCon, and apartment hunting in *looks* Uhh. 36 hours? But I've got Bastille Crowley buttons to sew and a wig to style and literally all the packing yet to do. That was supposed to get done today before the entire day was derailed by Amazon accidentally releasing extras early. Whoops.
> 
> I won't forget about you all, but don't be alarmed if it's 10 days or so before the next update.


	9. The Brick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Let’s take a break. Tell me another story? Another souvenir? Where’d that hair brush come from?”
> 
> “The store, angel.” But now Crowley was smiling and Aziraphale couldn’t help but smile back. “The brick it’s sitting on though, do you recognize it?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: This chapter has a flash back to Stonewall. There's no slurs or details, but there IS period and angelic homophobia. Keeping yourself safe and happy is far more important than reading this chapter <3

Aziraphale laughed softly as Crowley stepped on his foot for the third time in less than five minutes. He saw the frustration pass through Crowley’s eyes, tinted with a bit of despair. He didn’t want that, not for his silly idea.

He pulled Crowley tighter into his arms. Far too tightly to continue this attempted waltz.

“It’s alright, love.”

“S’not. I should be able to do this. It’s a simple dance! And you wanted-” Crowley cut off and turned his face towards Aziraphale’s.

“I wanted to try something new with you. Not for you to be perfect at the waltz on the first try, while I’m also stumbling through.”

Crowley melted further into his arms and Aziraphale kissed his forehead gently. There was a soft, contented sigh from the demon.

“Let’s take a break. Tell me another story? Another souvenir? Where’d that hair brush come from?”

“The store, angel.” But now Crowley was smiling and Aziraphale couldn’t help but smile back. “The brick it’s sitting on though, do you recognize it?”

“It’s not just a brick?”

\----------

**1969 - New York City**

Aziraphale wasn’t sure why he was here. He’d received a cryptic message from Sandalphon. Something about preventing another Sodom. So Aziraphale had boarded a plane, odd as it felt, and flown the human way to NYC.

He’d felt an upheaval and made his way to the Stonewall Inn, hoping that’d been the cause of the message. He’d watched the bricks be thrown and the push back.

He knew why Sandalphon had sent him, and what was expected of him. He also knew Sandalphon was dead wrong in which side should be protected. Aziraphale knew what side She would be on. He also knew Sandalphon’s foolish thoughts mirrored some of the modern humans. The choice was an easy one. Love was always worth protecting.

Aziraphale continued to watch as the police barricaded themselves in the Stonewall Inn. He’d been trying to add small miracles. He couldn’t do anything large enough to be noticed, but he could soften blows and guide things off target. 

And then suddenly there was a presence to his left. A smile flitted across his face that he tried to suppress.

“My side seems to think I should be here encouraging the police. They thought Heaven would be on the side of love. Seems they’re right.” Crowley’s voice sounded nearly desperate. Aziraphale wondered if his thoughts mirrored his own.

“Actually, I was sent here to help the police. Heaven was all for law and order this time. Orders came from Sandalphon though, you know how he can be.”

Aziraphale watched the smile cross Crowley’s face from the corner of his eye. “So were I to assist the rioters, it could be said I’m thwarting you?”

“I suppose so. And were you here to support the police in suppressing love, well. Clearly I need to obstruct your wiles.”

They stood there in silence watching the continued riot. Both snapping their fingers whenever they saw any way they could help the rioters.

“Where’d they get the parking meter?” Crowley’s eyebrow raised over his sunglasses briefly, questioning.

“Might’ve helped loosen that one a bit.” Aziraphale smiled, knowing his smile right now resembled one he often saw on Crowley’s face.

Crowley’s hand waved as he snapped and one of the police officers fell from the motorcycle he was riding on. “Just thwarting Heaven’s back up, of course.”

Aziraphale knew they couldn’t stop everything. The humans would get too suspicious. But they could do their best to stop any serious injuries. If this riot was for love, he didn’t want anyone to lose anyone they loved tonight.

Aziraphale observed the riot. There was so much variety in humans. It was a shame they’d get caught up over something like gender. He wondered briefly if he simply didn’t understand it because it was never something he cared much for. He loved watching Crowley shift and wave with the times and his personal preferences, but Aziraphale simply wanted to be himself.

Himself certainly didn’t fit into what the humans thought of as a man, despite how many classed him at a glance. He allowed his eyes to flick to the side, catching Crowley’s profile. His love- no he couldn’t afford that thought. Not ever, but especially not now. Not when Sandalphon had clearly sent him here hoping his purpose would be different.

More reinforcements showed up for the police and Aziraphale started to move forward. From the corner of his eye he saw Crowley startle and then follow. They could easily stay back, but their view would be obstructed. Aziraphale wouldn’t be able to help, and he wasn’t sure he could stand to not help right then. He stepped into the riot.

Aziraphale wasn’t paying attention to what was going on around him closely enough. He was too busy trying to heal minor wounds and cause miracles that would be unnoticed. It was amazing, truly, how badly the police kept missing the rioters.

That’s why he didn’t see the bottle flying at his head. Friendly fire as it was, was still fire. He glanced up and then there was a blur of black as Crowley’s arm shot out in front of him.

Crowley grunted as the bottle bounced off his arm. “OY, A LITTLE MORE CARE, WOULD YOU?”

A voice from behind shouted “Wait, he’s with you?”

Aziraphale felt it was probably for the best that Crowley had sunglasses on, as even with them his glare could burn. “Obviously.”

The man nodded. His next bottle wasn’t thrown at anyone within the crowd.

Aziraphale had been grateful for Crowley’s protection. But he felt a part of him stop working at the easy affirmation that he was with Crowley. Then Crowley casually draped an arm across his shoulder. Angel.exe stopped functioning in Aziraphale’s head altogether.

Aziraphale froze, staring forward. He tried to tell himself it was all a show. Crowley surely didn’t mean anything by it; he just didn’t want to see him be hit with another bottle. Then Crowley pulled him closer.

Every warning bell in Aziraphale’s head went off. Too much, too good. They’d be seen. Surely someone was watching. And despite it all, he couldn’t pull himself away from the half embrace. He couldn’t pull himself away from Crowley. He let himself imagine just for a moment that this was normal.

The rioters around them were chanting about love.

Aziraphale knew from watching humans that forbidding love never really worked. He’d just never stopped to reflect how much that was true for him as well. Angel.exe was still not working.

He leaned into the embrace as Crowley passed him a brick.

\---------

**Modern Day**

Aziraphale stared at the smile on Crowley’s face as he spoke. “You let me hold you that day.”

“The humans. They were chanting about love and fighting for it and for that moment I couldn’t stand to fight it.” Aziraphale nuzzled Crowley.

“Your face though. For a few minutes, it was just…”

“Bliss. Everything stopped and it was just you and me and, well...” Aziraphale trailed off.

Crowley’s hand briefly brushed his cheek. Then Crowley’s smile grew wider. “I want to try something.”

“Anything you like, love.”

Crowley pulled Aziraphale back to the spot in his living room they’d been trying to waltz. He snapped and soft music began to play. But instead of the waltz, he twisted Aziraphale’s wrist, and then Aziraphale was spinning and falling back into his arms, a soft gasp escaping his lips.

And then Aziraphale was moving again, and he wasn’t sure exactly how Crowley was spinning him around. This time it ended in a low dip with Aziraphale halfway to the ground, Crowley bent over him, face inches from his own. Crowley’s arms were firm around him, supporting him in place.

Aziraphale stared. He stared at the being that had stolen his heart so long ago. He sent up a silent thank you for the creation of this, his balancing force and missing piece. He lost himself in golden eyes, and this time he didn’t even try to deny it. He felt his entire body freeze as he simply let himself become adrift in Crowley’s eyes.

And Crowley did nothing but drink in the love and adoration he saw.

Suddenly Aziraphale shifted just enough to reach out. He pulled Crowley lower, filling those last few desperate inches between them.

Aziraphale thought it was a good thing his mind had already stopped working, because if not it would have now. One thing did start to slowly process. He wished he hadn’t waited so long. Love is always love, and this was worth Armageddon to get here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh so... Nekocon apparently takes three weeks now.
> 
> Okay, no really all sorry for the slow updates. See, I went to Nekocon and then decided that I should move and then that turned into a mad caper to my home state to pick my stuff up from storage while not alerting family... with three Crowley cosplayers and an Aziraphale. This is literally just my life in a nutshell.
> 
> We've moved in, mostly unpacked, and I even have some photos on the walls! So chapters should come probably at least once a week and the next one is actually nearly done. Back to normal update parameters we go.
> 
> I do hope the wait was worth it as this was by far the hardest chapter thus far to write. Next up is some angsty fluff and crepes!


	10. The Key

Crowley was trying to be quiet while he worked in the kitchen. He didn’t really know what he was doing, he just knew that Aziraphale wasn’t happy with the local crepes offerings. And he insisted that homemade ones were better than miracling them.

He glanced down at the recipe book again. It’d taken him two days of sneaking around the bookshop when Aziraphale wasn’t looking to find it. And now he had it balanced carefully out of splatter range, not sure how attached the angel was to this particular book. He just knew it looked vaguely old. So he’d been careful sneaking it back to his flat and was being exceptionally careful now.

He glanced at the mixing bowl and at the now hot pan next to it. As Crowley carefully measured out the perfect amount of batter, arms wrapped around him from behind. Crowley swore.

“That’s not the normal reaction I get from you.”

“Was trying to surprise you.” Crowley mumbled.

“Did you know you’ve got a bit of flour on your cheek, my dear?” Aziraphale’s hand reached up to gently brush Crowley’s cheek and then simply sat there. They both paused for a moment. “If you’d like me to leave I could…” as Aziraphale trailed off, Crowley turned in his arms.

“Never, angel. Never want you to go. But crepes?”

“Of course. Tell me a souvenir story while you cook?”

Aziraphale couldn’t help but smile as Crowley’s eyes lit up and he laughed. “Oh, the perfect one is right here.” And he pulled an old fashioned key down from where it was hanging attached to the nearest cabinet, still not quite leaving Aziraphale’s arms.

  
  


**1793 - The “Bastille”**

Crowley slid the key into his pocket. He was glad he’d been in Paris already. And glad he had the connections he needed to obtain a key to the Bastille. This wasn’t the first time he’d pulled Aziraphale from what could be a discorporation, but it may have been the most complicated. 

Even then, he knew he had to hurry. He could feel Aziraphale. He’d noticed waves of agitation before, but for the first time he felt a wave of fear.

Discorportation wasn’t permanent. But Crowley knew it would hurt. And guillotine blades certainly wouldn’t be the gentle caresses that were all he wanted Aziraphale to feel.

Crowley watched from the shadows as the executioner walked in. Then he stopped time. For now, he included Aziraphale in the time stop as well as the surrounding area. Might as well figure out the situation before he let the angel in on it.

He walked in and around the executioner, not paying him much attention. Humans were worse than animals sometimes.

Then he spotted Aziraphale. And he was suddenly relieved he stopped time. He couldn’t help but stare.

Aziraphale was always beautiful, of course. He’d like to think he was being impartial and that others also found the angel beautiful. He was an angel afterall, and they were supposed to be. A traitorous part of his heart told him that he was a little more taken in than most though.

But right now, Aziraphale was stunning. It hadn’t been that long since he’d seen the angel. Only a few years. Crowley briefly wondered if someone had been working all of those few years on the outfit Aziraphale was wearing. He knew Aziraphale didn’t miracle any of his clothes, they were all tailored. And the outfit he had on now must have taken some poor soul a fair bit of their lifetime to create.

To Crowley, it was more than worth it. Aziraphale was beautiful. This outfit made him shine.

It probably didn’t help that the singular ray of sun was shining in on him, illuminating him like the angel he was.

Crowley tried to remind himself that Aziraphale was indeed an angel. He was untouchable. He was not Crowley’s and Crowley could not have him.

Crowley could look though.

And so he circled Aziraphale slowly. Taking his time to take in all the details of the clothing, the way the sun hit, the way the angel simply shone. He stared at the angel and wished he could be truly his.

As suddenly as he walked into the room he realized he couldn’t go longer without hearing Aziraphale’s voice. Without seeing the angel moving and talking and interacting. The look was beautiful, but he wanted the angel.

He positioned himself aloofly in the corner. He gave himself a moment to close his eyes and reset. Then he snapped one finger, and unfroze Aziraphale while leaving the rest of the time stop in place.

“Animals don’t kill each other with clever machines, angel. Only humans do that.”

“Crowley?”

Crowley kept his face still. Did Aziraphale know what his voice sounded like? Did he know how much want and longing was coming through? Was it intentional? And then Aziraphale was looking at him. And looking again.

Crowley was pleased. Despite the rush, he’d taken some care with this particular outfit. The hair was especially stylish, but he knew the jacket looked perfect on him. 

He bantered. Drawing Aziraphale out. Of course Aziraphale had come across the Channel for something to eat.

Crowley tensed when Aziraphale said he wouldn’t miracle himself out because it’d simply be too frivolous. He tried to read Aziraphale’s face. Was the angel simply playing damsel in distress or was it true? Would Heaven really rather he discorporate? Of course they would. They didn’t care a whit for the pain it would cause Aziraphale. He pushed down the anger he felt. He made a mental note to keep closer tabs on the angel. Aziraphale wasn’t going to get discorporated if Crowley could stop it.

Crowley nearly panicked when Aziraphale thanked him. The punishment for himself would be bad enough if he were caught, but did he understand what Heaven did to traitors? What they’d done to him just for asking questions? What would they do to an angel that was friendly with a demon? Crowley could do a lot. But he couldn’t protect Aziraphale from both Heaven and Hell.

And then Aziraphale was changed and they were preparing to walk from the Bastille.

Crowley released the time stop and watched with a bit of satisfaction as the executioner was led out. He supposed he should be protecting him. That would be one angelic miracle he had failed to stop.

Besides, he had more important things to worry about. Aziraphale was already chattering at his side about where they could get the best crepes.

**Modern Day**

Crowley couldn’t help but smile at his angel. “You know, you were playing the utter damsel in distress that day.”

“Luckily I had a demon to come rescue me.”

Crowley smirked. “What if I hadn’t shown up?”

“Would’ve just been discorporated I guess.”

Crowley froze. “Aziraphale.”

Aziraphale must have felt the tension in Crowley’s body because his arms tightened around him. “Yes, dear?”

“You do know that saving yourself isn’t a frivolous miracle?” Crowley turned in his arms to stare at the angel in the eyes.

“Oh it would have just been a spot of paper-”

“It’s not painless to be discorporated, angel. And I know Heaven wouldn’t have been kind about issuing you a new corporation. They can be downright stingy at times despite having literally everything.”

Crowley paused resting his hand on Aziraphale’s cheek. “You’re worth saving, Aziraphale. You shouldn’t need to hurt.”

Neither of them moved as a tear trailed its way down Aziraphale’s cheek. Crowley watched it with a pit in his stomach. He briefly thought of what the humans dreamed Heaven was like. And then he ached for what it had done to his angel.

Aziraphale’s voice was near a whisper as he said, “To you.”

“What?”

“To you, Crowley. I’m worth saving. To you. You’re the only one, the only one who ever-” Aziraphale cut off, broken.

Crowley’s hands were on him in an instant. Pulling him closer. Holding him. Letting the angel shake within his grasp. Murmuring how very, very much he loved him. How very valuable he was.

Crowley waited until Aziraphale had stopped shaking to ease his grip. “Always, angel. You’re always worth saving. Just because they don’t see it, doesn’t mean it isn’t the truth.”

Aziraphale smiled sadly. “You’re a bit biased.”

“Doesn’t make it a lie, angel.” Crowley kissed his nose. He watched the smile spread across Aziraphale’s face and felt he could breathe again. “Crepes?”

Aziraphale nodded, but didn’t let go as Crowley turned back towards the pan.

Crowley poured some of the batter in and watched it sizzle. “Er. I really don’t know what I’m doing but…”

Aziraphale laughed and reached around him, gently grabbing the spatula that was sitting out to flip the crepe so it wouldn’t burn. He kissed Crowley’s neck gently while his face was there. “Just takes practice, my dearest.”

They worked together slowly making crepes. Aziraphale showed Crowley how to put powdered sugar over them. Crowley slowly fed him strawberries between slicing them for the topping. Eventually they were curled up together, crepes half eaten and long since forgotten for something sweeter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So at Nekocon I premiered my Paris Crowley outfit. I have... many feelings on this era and at some point I think I'm going to take this snippet and evolve it into a longer fic as I have thoughts on where, exactly, Crowley got that key. And the events that followed.
> 
> Also, a replica of that key is currently sitting on my desk. And it's from the Bastille, but it's listed as "Bastille" in this fic because the Bastille had been destroyed a few years prior (Crowley, not quite getting human history. He wasn't involved after all)


	11. The Letter Opener

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Aziraphale pushed the door open and froze. Crowley was lounging in a giant claw foot bath tub. The water must have been near boiling hot as he watched the steam coming off of it. Crowley’s head was resting against some sort of fancy pillow in the back and-
> 
> And Aziraphale’s head was in a dungeon watching a small demon scream as it faded into nothingness in a pool of holy water. He was picturing what it would have done to Crowley. How he could have lost him forever."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Panic attack in this chapter

Aziraphale looked up from his book as he slowly closed it. Crowley had wandered off somewhere around a half hour ago and hadn’t wandered back yet. But he hadn’t heard the front door. He gently set the book he’d finished to the side and went to look.

  
He could have just reached out and felt for Crowley’s aura, but Crowley had challenged him to find more souvenirs. So instead he contented himself with looking around as he went room to room in search of the demon.

Stepping into the bedroom, something on the shelf caught his eye. He took down the letter opener and examined it in his hands. He thought he recognized it, but he’d need to find Crowley to be sure.

This time he did close his eyes and reach out. He knocked on the bathroom door softly, not wanting to disturb Crowely but-

“Come on in, angel.”

Aziraphale pushed the door open and froze. Crowley was lounging in a giant claw foot bath tub. The water must have been near boiling hot as he watched the steam coming off of it. Crowley’s head was resting against some sort of fancy pillow in the back and-

And Aziraphale’s head was in a dungeon watching a small demon scream as it faded into nothingness in a pool of holy water. He was picturing what it would have done to Crowley. How he could have lost him forever.

Crowley. In a bathtub full of water.

Aziraphale wasn’t aware he was hyperventilating until suddenly Crowley’s very wet arms were wrapped around him.

Crowley was whispering frantically in his ear, “No, no. Shh, angel. It’s okay. Right here. What’s wrong? Aziraphale, what’s wrong?”

Aziraphale managed to gasp out something about holy water and suddenly he was being gently pulled from the room. He grabbed hold of Crowley, not able to bear the thought of not holding him right now.

Crowley pulled him down into the bed and wrapped them both in a blanket as he continued to shake. Crowley was gently running hands through his hair and keeping up a slow cadence of how very much he loved him.

Eventually Aziraphale stopped shaking. “I’m- I’m sorry. I just. The holy water and the bathtub and you…” he trailed off.

“S’ok, angel. I’m here. Right here. Just plain water. Besides, you’d never let a drop of holy water touch me. Look what’s in your hand. Kept that one as a souvenir you know.”

\----------

**2011 - Abandoned Warehouse**

Aziraphale was worried about the message he’d received from Gabriel to come here immediately. He didn’t know if they’d found out about something. He was terrified they could have found out about Crowley. The arrangement. The agreement about the Antichrist.

Aziraphale forced the panic down and stepped into the warehouse, letting his eyes adjust to the dark.

He forced a smile onto his face at the sight of Gabriel. He didn’t like the angel, but there was no discord in Heaven. He let his eyes trail past him.

For the first time ever Aziraphale felt genuinely sick to his stomach. Behind Gabriel, tied to a chair with what must have been sanctified rope was Crowley. His glasses were missing and his shirt was torn. His hair had been pulled back, but half was loose now and falling down to hide his face. He wasn’t looking up.

“Ah, Aziraphale! I’d wondered how long it would take you to get here. Thought you needed to be present for this. He’s been a wiley one to catch, right? Somehow I stumbled into him just down the street from your shop, can you imagine?” 

Aziraphale heard the words. He remembered to plaster a smile onto his face. For Crowley’s sake. The demon was depending on him to get out of this. He forced his voice as normal as he could. “Ah, so glad you were able to apprehend him. He’s a wiley one you know! No telling what sort of evil he was up to!”

“Yes, well. I thought about simply smiting him, but then it occurred to me some holy water would take care of the problem for good. I mean, he’s been a thorn in your side for 6,000 years. It’ll be nice to clear things up to prepare for the Apocalypse.”

It took every bit of practice Aziraphale had telling not quite truths to keep his face calm. He felt his hands clench and unclench and tried to force them quiet. What would any of the other angels say?

“That sounds wonderful.” Aziraphale tried for chipper. “One less demon is a good thing! Should I wait here while you get the holy water?”

Crowley finally looked up then. He wasn’t looking at Gabriel. He was staring at Aziraphale, pain radiating from his eyes. Aziraphale felt a wave of pain roll off and hit him. Then he realized Crowley had believed him. Crowley thought that Aziraphale had turned his back on him. He tried to tell himself that was a good thing. Then maybe Gabriel was fooled too.

“Oh sure, but no reason to wait in here. He’s tied securely. I was only here waiting for you. At least out front the smell of evil is less.” And Gabriel gestured for Aziraphale to proceed him out the door.

Aziraphale wanted to do no such thing. He wanted to turn and run back, to untie the ropes he knew were burning Crowley’s arms. He walked through the door, leaving his back unguarded. If Gabriel was going to attack, now would be the time.

“I may be a bit, need to explain to Michael why I was delayed and ensure everything is running smoothly. You’ll be fine waiting? If not you can always head back to that dwelling.”

Aziraphale nodded. “I’ll be fine.”

Gabriel smiled. “Good.” And then he disappeared.

Aziraphale forced himself to pause. After counting to one hundred, he closed his eyes to see if anyone was watching. As far as he could tell, no one was. He turned and ran back inside, talking as he went.

“We’ve got to get you out of here, what happened? No don’t tell me now just-”

He was reaching around Crowley to untie him, looking at his face. He saw the hope dawn in Crowley’s eyes. A soft smile of relief crossed his face. Aziraphale allowed himself a moment to take it in.   
  


“It was just for Gabriel, Crowley. I’d never let them hurt you.”

Aziraphale’s hands gently grasped Crowley’s for a moment as they stared at each other. Aziraphale didn’t know how his own face looked, but the hope in Crowley’s both broke him and filled him. He didn’t want to stop looking. He wanted to stop and confess right there how he’d felt about Crowley for years. How much he cared for him. He wanted to lean over and kiss him.

Then reality set in. Crowley was still tied up. By angels, no less. And he needed to get him out of here before one of them returned with holy water. He started to untie the ropes.

Then suddenly Crowley was all but yelling. “No, angel. Stop!”

Aziraphale paused. “Crowley?”

“You can’t just untie me, they’ll know. Not even they’re THAT stupid angel.”

Aziraphale stared. “Crowley, they’re going to destroy you.”

Crowley’s eyes were staring into him and Aziraphale didn’t quite know the look. He wasn’t sure he wanted to understand. “Angel, it was my mistake. And it’s better they get me than you. You’re… you’re safe. Angelic still. I’m just another one the fall-”

“You’re my friend.” The words were out of Aziraphale’s mouth before he knew what he was saying. “And I’m not going to leave you here, even if it means fighting Gabriel to get you out. So let’s get you out now before it comes to that.”

Aziraphale again bent back towards the ropes. “Angel, stop. A plan. Someway they won’t know it’s you.”

Aziraphale pulled back. “I could miracle-”

“They’d know what you miracled.”

Aziraphale paused. Mind racing. Watching the calculations flit across Crowley’s own face. He wasn’t the one who came up with plans, not really. That was always more Crowley’s department. But…

Aziraphale snapped and a book materialized in his hands.

“How’s that going to help?”

“The book won’t, but my bookmark…” Aziraphale opened the book and pulled a letter opener from inside. “It’s celestial steel. It will cut through those ropes easily enough. Crowley, I... “ Aziraphale took a deep breath. “Can you fight?”

“Wot?”

“The blade, it’s… if you run into more trouble during the escape. It will stop an angel.” Aziraphale didn’t say more. He hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

He reached around Crowley and carefully placed the blade in his hands. He turned his face. Their faces were right next to each other. If he moved just a few more inches he could- Aziraphale stopped that thought. Right now was dangerous enough.

Aziraphale did let his hand rest on Crowley’s for a second as their eyes met. He gave the gentlest of squeezes. “Be safe. If you need help, summon me. I know you know how to.”

Then Aziraphale turned and walked out the door, trying to push down the panic. Once outside he miracled himself a comfortable chair with a foot rest, and made a show of reading. He tried to listen for noises inside. He didn’t hear any. He hoped that was a good sign.

A few hours later, Gabriel reappeared. “I see you made yourself at home?”

“Yes, well just catching up on some reading you understand. The Bible translations these days, there’s so many of them.”

Aziraphale closed the book and miracled it back to his shop. Then he turned to follow Gabriel in. He felt a moment of terror hoping against hope that Crowley would be long gone.

As soon as he heard Gabriel swear, he had to begin fighting the smile down. Forcing his face into a frown. And then he saw the empty chair and the cut ropes. He felt himself breathe again.

“I did warn you, he is a wiley one.”

“But those ropes! They should have worked.”

“Perhaps I should have stayed inside.” 

“No, no, he would have just knocked you out and escaped anyway.”

Aziraphale fought back the puzzlement at this. Didn’t Gabriel know their respective strengths? But he said nothing as the archangel continued on his rant.

Eventually he sent Aziraphale home.

Aziraphale walked calmly away. As soon as he was in the bookshop he ran for his phone. He breathed a sigh of relief when Crowley answered on the first ring.

“Alright there, angel?”

“I am now.”

\-----------------------------------------

**Modern Era**

Crowley gently kissed him then pulled back. “I… I thought you’d finally given up on me. Figured the end was coming. And then you came back. You came back and you saved me. And now, well.” Crowley squeezed tighter. “You didn’t miss much. It only took me about a minute to get my arms untied and then my legs. Then I just dematerialized out of there. Thought it was the best option. I hope Gabriel didn’t keep you waiting too long.”

“No, not too long.” Aziraphale’s voice was soft.

Crowley gently took the letter opener from Aziraphale’s hands, tossing it to the bedside table. “Aziraphale, you’re shivering.”

Aziraphale laughed. “Could use a hot bath.”

“Aziraphale, what’s wrong?”

Aziraphale could barely hear his own voice. “You truly thought I’d give up on you? That I’d want you gone?” His voice began to stutter. “After- after everything? And I hurt you. I let you believe that.”

“Aziraphale. Angel. You didn’t have a choice. If you hadn’t said what you said, Gabriel would have killed us both.”

Crowley was surprised by the almost laugh Aziraphale gave. “Gabriel isn’t any match for me, Crowley. He’s a messenger. I’m a guardian. There was no need-”

“And you don’t think that ki-fighting Gabriel wouldn’t have caused other problems? I couldn’t have protected you from all of Heaven, angel. Much as I would have tried.”

“I could have just Fallen to protect you-” Aziraphale snapped his mouth shut. He already half regretted the words that had slipped out and yet at the same time he knew them to be true.

Crowley looked at him aghast. His voice came out broken. “No, no, angel no.” His hands were cradling Aziraphale’s face now, holding it inches from his own. “No, Aziraphale. I would love you whatever form you are, but I never want you to need to go through that. Especially not for me. I’m not worth that, angel.”

“You are.”

“M’not. Angel, truly. That’s why I believed it that day. I know I don’t deserve you. I’m- Aziraphale I’m happier than I’ve ever been. This, this change between us. I don’t deserve you, I don’t deserve this. It’s too good for me. Too wonderful. I don’t deserve it or you, and I couldn’t take the knowledge that you’d ever been hurt just for me. Just having this has been amazing.”

And now Aziraphale was the one looking aghast. “Crowley, no. You deserve everything, anything. I’m yours. I have been for so long. And that was always fully deserved, love. I just wish I had told you earlier.”

Aziraphale leaned in, touching their foreheads. He stared into the golden eyes. Crowley’s eyes were still doubting. Aziraphale let a glimpse of his true self shine through in his eyes. He was made as a being of love, and right now all that love was directed at one singular demon.

Aziraphale watched Crowley’s eyes widen. And then they relaxed as tears began to track down his cheeks, but he was smiling. Aziraphale smiled with him.

Crowley was still looking into his eyes as he whispered in amazement, “You truly love me.”

“I do. You understand now?” 

“Yes. You know I love you?”

“I have for a long time, my dear.” Aziraphale closed his eyes, letting them return to their pale blue orbs as he opened them to stare into Crowley’s eyes again. He waited until they were both calm.

“Could still use that bath.”

“Are you sure?”

“I think so.” Aziraphale turned to stare at Crowley. He was still dripping slightly onto the blankets. “Would you care to join me? Keep you from getting our bed any damper.”

Crowley smiled and slowly moved from the bed, gently leading the angel down the hall. He seemed to be measuring Aziraphale with each step. Once they reached the tub, he tenderly helped Aziraphale undress, then waited for him to climb in. Aziraphale looked at him expectantly from the tub.

Crowley seemed to glance at the space available, then shrugged and slid into the tub behind Aziraphale, wrapping his arms around him. Crowley rested his head back on the pillow again, pulling Aziraphale down slightly to lay against him.

Aziraphale sighed.

“Good, angel?”

“Yes. It’s so warm.”

“Mm. Kind of the point.”

Aziraphale let his eyes flutter shut, head still resting on Crowley’s chest. He slowly fell asleep, cocooned by warm water and loving arms. Crowley smiled and gently kissed the top of the soft curls.


	12. The Apple Seeds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Crowley laid on the floor staring up at the apple tree above him. It wasn’t his first apple tree, no this one was one that he had carefully cultivating for generations. He supposed it could be termed the descendant of the first plant though. He still knew the seed it had come from, and those memories were both bitter and sweet. Right now he was indulging far too much in the bitter side, he knew.
> 
> It shouldn’t really be able to bloom and stay small enough to fit inside his flat, but Crowley’s plants had a habit of doing what he expected them to. So he was staring up at an apple when he heard the door open as Aziraphale walked in."

Crowley laid on the floor staring up at the apple tree above him. It wasn’t his first apple tree, no this one was one that he had carefully cultivating for generations. He supposed it could be termed the descendant of the first plant though. He still knew the seed it had come from, and those memories were both bitter and sweet. Right now he was indulging far too much in the bitter side, he knew.

It shouldn’t really be able to bloom and stay small enough to fit inside his flat, but Crowley’s plants had a habit of doing what he expected them to. So he was staring up at an apple when he heard the door open as Aziraphale walked in.

“Being thoughtful, my dear?”

Crowley made a non-committal noise. He didn’t look at the angel, but suddenly Aziraphale was filling his field of vision, standing next to the apple tree over him. He almost wanted to smile at the conjunction.

He had his glasses off. Aziraphale took one look at his eyes and promptly sat down next to him. Holding his arms open.

Crowley couldn’t turn down the invitation. He shifted, still looking up at the tree, but moving his head to Aziraphale’s lap. Aziraphale started absent mindedly running his hands through his hair and Crowley basked in the attention as any snake would in a ray of sunlight.

“That tree is your favorite.”

The leaves on the tree above them rustled, pleased. Crowley groaned. “Angel, you’re going to spoil them.”

“Well, I’ll stop talking for a bit if you tell me why that tree is your favorite.” More leaves rustled. The other plants almost seemed to straighten, vying for the angel’s positive attention.

“It’s… it’s from Eden.”

Aziraphale looked confused.

“Not, like, from Eden from Eden. It’s a descendent.”

“You… you took an apple seed from Eden?”

Crowley waved his hand. “Met a cute angel, wanted a souvenir.”

\---------------------------

**4004 BC**

Crowley winced as he watched the demons turning on each other. Discorporations were common. Stupid really, it was just a waste and pain for all involved. His first discorporation had come when he was looking at the stars one evening. A demon had accused him of being too good. Of wanting to go back up there.

He didn’t look at the stars now. He kept to the edges and just watched the fights. He took the opportunity to learn. He’d never wanted to be a fighter, but he always loved knowledge. He thought knowing how to beat a demon may come in handy given what he’d seen so far.

Beelzebub came out on top of the latest squirmish. That was happening a lot lately. Hastur was another favorite, and he seemed always have Ligur at his back. That may be why they were doing so well. Crowley wondered briefly if they’d known each other before.

Was pointless to wonder about. There was only now.

Without warning, there was another demon besides him. This one was terrifying and beautiful. Crowley knew it was Lucifer, changed as they had all been. What was once gorgeous had become terrifying. But the beauty was still there.

“You don’t look pleased down here, Crawly.”

Crowley pushed down the flinch at the demon-inflicted name. He’d made stars once. Now they saw him as just a thing to slither through the Earth. “It certainly beats up there. But the atmosphere leaves a bit to be desired.”

“You’re too bright for what’s going on down here. I see you watching. Your time would be better spent elsewhere. There’s a new creation up there. Seems to be called a human. Why not get up there and make some trouble?”

“Whatever you’d like, excellency.”

Crowley changed to snake form. It’d be less noticeable, he reasoned. Then he burrowed up.

He wasn’t sure where he was expecting to emerge, but it wasn’t a garden. He curled up around a tree, and started to watch.

He watched the humans going about their day. He saw an angel remind them of the tree they weren’t to eat from. He thought it was Gabriel, but he wasn’t completely certain. Snake eyes weren’t as good as angelic ones.

It was only a matter of time until Adam left. And Crowley weaved his way down to talk to Eve. She was enjoying all of the animals, he would be no exception in his snake form.

He befriended her. Then all he did was ask her why she hadn’t eaten the fruit. She really took things from there. All Crowley had ever needed to do was ask questions.

He watched as the angel cut a hole in the wall and saw Adam and Eve off. It raised his curiosity. The angel had no reason to help the two of them, not really. He was sure they’d be removed from the garden for not following the rules, after all, hadn't he been through the same thing? The angel was a surprise.

So he went up to talk.

He cursed a bit internally as he gave the name that Hell had given. Crawly wasn’t any sort of a name. One for a snake, but he was only a snake when he wanted to be. He’d been toying with the idea of Crowley, to match the obsidian wings he’d given himself. Maybe he’d tell someone eventually.

He continued to talk. Really, he didn’t have anything better to do. Worst case, the angel would discorporate him, but he’d already been through that.

He suppressed the urge to laugh as he made a joke about the fruit tree in the middle of a garden. Something far too tempting was here before his eyes. He tried not to look the angel over again. He’d failed as an angel. He was apparently about to fail as a demon. Only demon talking to an angel. But there was something different about this angel.

“I gave it away!” Aziraphale was flustered. It was the first really truthful thing he’d said.

And Crowley felt his heart tip. He couldn’t help but stare. The angel was beautiful of course, but unlike every angel he’d met in Heaven this angel had done the right thing. How had he not fallen?

Crowley was piqued. And he tried to ignore that little part inside him that said it was more. Demon’s couldn’t fall in love, could they? He knew angels could and did sometimes, but he wasn’t an angel now. And even if he could, angels would most definitely be off limits. Demons didn’t deserve angels.

And then he started to worry he’d done other things wrong. What if the entire apple plan was wrong? What if the Almighty had wanted this? She apparently was fine with the angel giving away his sword.

It started to rain. Crowley didn’t know it was rain, but the word felt right. And he instinctively shied away from it, towards the only other-

What was he doing. This was an angel.

Aziraphale’s wing came up, covering him. Protecting him. Protecting him as no one else really had. Certainly not the Almighty in casting him down. And no one in Hell would offer anything to someone in need. Crowley felt his heart flip in his chest.

He knew it was love. It was simple. It was obvious. He was in love with the first being he’d met that tried to protect him, no matter how unnecessary that protection was. He was a fool. He was clearly trying to fail in every way. The angel, Aziraphale he reminded himself, was just behaving as angels do. There was no way he’d love a creature like him. There was no way he’d ever deserve that.

  
And yet, no one had told Crowley how long to stay up here. He decided he’d stay as long as possible. He wanted to learn more about this angel. None of the others would have bothered to shield him, angel or otherwise.

He stepped closer to Aziraphale, watching the water cascade off of pristine white wings. It was beautiful. He was mesmerized. For now he just let the love he was beginning to feel flow. He reasoned it couldn’t hurt anything but him.

The two stood together watching Adam and Eve. There were the occasional comments between them, but mostly there was silence. Companionship. Crowley wondered if Aziraphale had ever been as lonely in Heaven as he had been. 

Eventually the rain stopped.

“You’ll be down here a bit then? Guarding the gate?”

“Oh, I think I’m meant to stay for now. Guard humanity, as it were. They’re going to need it by the looks of it.”

“Right. Well then. Best be off for now. But I will see you again?”

“I’m certain of it.”

Crowley transformed himself back into a snake and slithered back down. He hid away in the garden for a bit, safe in the apple tree.

Then he looked down and saw the core of the apple Eve had eaten. A few seeds had fallen out and lay on the ground next to it. He took them in his mouth as he slithered out of the garden, in search of a place to plant them.

He didn’t know why, but he knew he wanted to keep something of what had happened.

\-------------

**Modern Era**

“Hell back then, angel. It was. Well, Hell. But worse. Now it’s settled down into a rank and order system. Then it was just constant fights and pecking orders and trying to figure out what was on top. I got discorporated twice before I was able to figure out how to keep to the corners. Once they caught me looking at stars. Thought it was too good of me.”

Crowley’s eyes found Aziraphale’s. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for. Hell had torn him down. Told him how worthless he was for so many centuries. The angel, his angel. That had been the light that kept him himself. Someone seeing him as himself.

“I found you.” Crowley raised his hand up to Aziraphale’s face. “I didn’t know it quite yet, but I’d found you. The being that would love me.” And Crowley finally felt secure in that. Secure in the love Aziraphale had for him. He still wasn’t quite sure he deserved that love, but he knew it was real and that it was his.

“I do.” Aziraphale whispered. Still reassuring him, Crowley realized. He felt the love for his angel surge.

“Did you know you were the first, the only I suppose, one to ever shelter me? Your wings during that first storm. And so many times since, angel. You’ve sheltered me in so many ways. I fell in love that moment. Didn’t know what to do with it, never dreamed you’d feel the same. But I suppose I wanted something to remember that first meeting by. So I slithered back down into the garden, and I took some seeds.”

“You mean to tell me,” and Aziraphale was smiling down at him, “that you stole a seed from the tree of knowledge?”

Crowley smirked. “Not just the tree, angel. This is a descendant of the apple that Eve took a bite from.”

Aziraphale glanced up at the tree almost reverently. Crowley smirked and sat up, plucking an apple from a low hanging branch and taking a bite as he laid back onto Aziraphale’s lap.

“Crowley!”

“Wot?”

“That’s- that’s from the tree of knowledge you can’t just-”

“Angel, I’ve been eating fruit from these trees for six millenia. Haven’t turned into a pile of demon goo yet.”

He felt Aziraphale stiffen and regretted his words. He thought about saying something, but instead held out the apple with an apologetic look.

Aziraphale looked at the apple. And looked at him. “Foul fiend.” But it was said with a smile on his lips as he leaned forward and took a bite from the apple still in Crowley’s hands.

“See, still an angel. Descendant tree is harmless. Reminds me of a cute angel on a wall though.”

“He was rather taken in by a demon. Didn’t quite know what to do with the fiendish fellow.” Aziraphale grew quiet as he continued to run his hands slowly through Crowley’s hair. When he spoke again, his voice was troubled. “They discorporated you for looking at stars? Is that why you only look at them when you think I’m not looking?”

Crowley fell silent, cursing himself mentally for not being careful enough. Clearly he’d-

“Crowley, can I… can I take us somewhere?”

“Anything you want, angel.”

Aziraphale bent down to gently kiss his forehead and as he did he felt them dematerialize. When Aziraphale sat up again, he realized they were in a clearing. But they must be far from any humans cities for the stars to be glowing that brightly. For the first time in years, Crowley could see the Milky Way. He gasped.

Aziraphale sat there silent. Crowley could feel the angel’s eyes on him as he stared at the sky. Could feel Aziraphale’s hands in his hair. Crowley felt warm as he stared at the colors glinting back at him.

Eventually, Aziraphale finally spoke. “Do you have a favorite?”

Crowley smiled as he pointed to Alpha Centauri. “Alpha Centauri. That’s a binary star you know, the last one I made.”

“You… made?”

“I made so many of these, angel. So many.” And Aziraphale’s eyes were back on him again, measuring this new information. But shining with love. “It was relaxing, crafting stars and nebulas. They made so much more sense and were so filled with beauty. Alpha Centauri though, it’s one that didn’t listen. It was supposed to be a single star but just refused to. Eventually I let it free to take its place. Two stars so close they seemed as one unless someone looked closer. I hope it’d work out for it. Suppose it did.”

Aziraphale was still staring at him. “Yes, dear. I suppose it did.”

Crowley found himself lost in the two pale blue stars gazing at him. A brief thought tried to intrude telling him he wasn’t worthy of this. But those eyes had told him differently. And he decided to believe them.


	13. The Lock of Hair

Crowley felt himself shimmer as he was summoned. He felt a panic set into his stomach. There was only one being that had successfully managed to summon him and-

  
Suddenly he was in his own bed staring at a ruffled angel.

“Aziraphale, what is it? What’s wrong?” He jumped forward and had his arms around the angel. He couldn’t find any obvious wounds, he didn’t see anything obviously wrong. And Aziraphale was relaxing in his arms.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, love. I didn’t mean to worry you. I-” Aziraphale took a deep breath and continued calmer. “I just woke up and you weren’t here and my dream-” He cut off again, staring at Crowley, his eyes begging for forgiveness.

Crowley finally let himself relax. He pulled Aziraphale back onto the bed and into his arms. “Was just making breakfast, angel. Didn’t want you to wake up hungry is all.” He nuzzled into Aziraphale’s neck. “Glad you remember how to do that. That you can call me when you need me.”

Aziraphale relaxed into the embrace, tightening his hold on Crowley as he let the last of the dream escape.

“You’re safe.”

“Mm. I am. Right here, angel. Not going anywhere.”

“Tell me a story? A souvenir?”

Crowley reached over to the nightstand and opened the drawer, pulling out a tied lock of his own hair. He handed it gently to the angel. “Remember the first time I cut my hair?”

\----------------------------

**33AD**

It had been a month. Jesus had long since died and been raised. Crowley couldn’t say he was surprised. Hell’s plans had a habit of not working out, really.

It had been a month since he had told the angel his name. He really still wasn’t sure why. The angel was the first one he told, that name he’d been holding onto for so many centuries.

It had been good to hear it from another mouth besides his own.

It had felt like home.

He stopped that thought as he went back to simply watching the water in the river he was standing over, considering what his next move should be.

And then suddenly he wasn’t just standing there anymore. He was shimmering. Being beckoned. It took him a moment to realize what was going on and then he realized he was being summoned for the first time.

Hell had tried to summon him over the years. It’d never worked. He’d been reprimanded for it at first until he’d proven for some reason the summoning spells didn’t work on him.

  
This one was.

He listened, and let the spell take him.

And suddenly he was standing in front of Aziraphale.

The angel stared at him, almost embarrassed. “Oh”

Crowley slowly blinked at him, still confused. “Angel? You, er, wanted something?”

“I, uh, it’s just, your new name and-” Aziraphale cut off. He was wringing his hands. Crowley was perplexed, but he knew Aziraphale. He knew if he kept asking the truth would come out eventually.

“Aziraphale?”

“I summoned you!”

“I… noticed.”

“It’s just, I’ve tried to in the past. Not often, you know. Just from time to time. Started the first time after the ark. Wanted to be sure everything was fine. It’s never worked before?” And now Aziraphale was staring at him confused.

Crowley could only handle one thing at a time. Or at least he could only bear to think of one and so he pushed the thoughts of the angel trying to summon him over the years, and why he would. Instead a slow realization began to dawn in the back of his head. His voice wasn’t cracked, but it was light. “What name did you use, angel?”

“Crowley, of course. That’s what you told me your name is.”

Of course. The spells had never worked before. Because Crawly hadn’t actually been his name. Just a moniker that Hell had thrown on him, but he’d never accepted it. His angelic name wouldn’t have worked either, that one he lost in the Fall. But Crowley had been what he knew he was.

He tried to keep his voice calm. He couldn’t suppress the ragged tone. “No one’s ever tried to summon me with that name before.”

Aziraphale was staring at him now, but it was more quiet contemplation. “I do rather like it, you know. Fits you far better.”

The angel was staring at him and Crowley was still wondering what to do with this bit of information. His name, his true name. He’d not only given it to an angel, but an angel was the only one besides himself who knew it.

He didn’t know if he wanted everyone to know or no one else to ever know.

“Crowley?”

It sounded so right when Aziraphale said it.

“Yes, angel?”

“Would you like a drink?”

“That would be nice.”

\-----

The next time Aziraphale summoned him, Crowley had been in a busy crowded market less than a week later. Suddenly he was in a nearby cottage.

“Angel, what did you need?”

Aziraphale looked up in surprise. Shock was written on his face. “I- I’m sorry Crowley. I hadn’t even realized I’d said your name.”

Crowley forced down the panic. Not that Aziraphale would summon him, never that. But that this was a weakness. They could be caught. It was showing their hands too much.

Then Aziraphale smiled at him and he was inviting the angel out to see the new stalls at the market.

\----

The third time Aziraphale summoned him, the angel had been asleep.

Crowley had been a bit alarmed to be awakened from his own slumber by the summons. Now he looked down on the sleeping angel. Aziraphale was whispering Crowley’s name still. The dream didn’t look unpleasant, the angel was smiling.

Crowley wanted to touch him. To brush his hands gently through Aziraphale’s hair and maybe let their minds touch enough to find out what Aziraphale was dreaming. What would make him smile so while Crowley’s name was on his lips.

He forced it down. He let out a soft whisper, barely more than a sigh. “Oh angel.” Then after one more glance around to ensure nothing was threatening the angel, he transported himself back to his own bed. He didn’t sleep again that night. Every time he closed his eyes he saw Aziraphale’s face, soft in sleep.

\----

The next time the angel summoned him, Aziraphale acted like it was an accident. And Crowley smiled because Aziraphale really was a bad liar.

And the table he was sitting at had already been set for two.

\----

The next time Aziraphale summoned Crowley, Crowley had been sitting on the ground holding a pair of scissors.

He’d been trying to miracle his hair shorter. His name fit him now. He felt safe in it, happy in a way he hadn’t been before.

But his hair had been long since Eden, and it was time for a change.

He’d tried to miracle it shorter, but it hadn’t worked. He was about to resort to simply using the scissors when the now familiar summoning hit him.

Whatever Aziraphale had been planning was stopped in his tracks as he took in Crowley standing there, half shorn head. He took a slow step forward and didn’t say anything but slowly held out his hand.

Crowley passed the scissors to him and turned, giving him better access.

“How short did you want it?”

“Short? Short as you can take it I guess? I just need change.”

Crowley didn’t say anything else, but he felt Aziraphale’s hands work deftly through his hair. He caught a lock as it was falling and tucked it into a pocket. He hadn’t hated his hair, he just needed something new.

After a time, Aziraphale’s hands on his hair stopped and Crowley reached up to feel the difference. His head felt lighter already. He turned to the angel and whispered a soft thank you.

Aziraphale merely smiled gently as he handed the scissors back.

And then Crowley sighed. As much as he’d loved Aziraphale summoning him and as helpful as it’d been today, it needed to stop. There was too much at risk. If Heaven or Hell found out, there was no telling what would happen.

He pulled his glasses off. He didn’t want a barrier between them as he pulled his eyes to Aziraphale’s blue ones. “Angel, this has to stop.”

“I don’t know-”

“The summoning, angel. Truly, I don’t mind. But it’s dangerous. What if I’d been in a meeting today instead of just cutting my hair? What if someone followed me? I’d fight the lot of them for you, angel. But I can’t protect you from them all.” Crowley hated the pain he saw appearing in Aziraphale’s eyes. The angel had to know better. He had to know this was dangerous. Crowley understood. He didn’t want Aziraphale to stop summoning him either.

Crowley slowly raised his hand towards Aziraphale. Wanting to comfort. Not daring to, really. But Aziraphale took his hand and some of the pain lessened.

“Just when needed, then.”

Crowley nodded.

\-----------------------------------------

**Modern Era**

“You helped me cut my hair that day, remember? But that wasn’t really why I saved it."

Aziraphale simply stared at him waiting for him to go on. 

“I’d told you my name, Aziraphale. Did you know you’re still the only one who’s figured out how to summon me? By using my name? Even though I eventually relented and told Hell because I hated what they were calling me, they never put two and two together for a summoning. And then you kept summoning me.”

Aziraphale smiled. “Yes, well I did rather like your company.”

Crowley kissed the top of his head. “Did you realize you’d summoned me in your sleep the one time though?”

Azirpahale looked indignant. “I did not!”

Crowley grinned. “You did!”

Aziraphale looked at him aghast. “No wonder you warned me off.”

“Was worried someone would catch us at a bad time. Or something else would go wrong. But you can summon me anytime you’d like now, you know.”

“You’re going to regret saying that at some point I’m sure.”

Crowley tightened his arms. “Never.” After a little while he loosened his grip slightly. “Breakfast though?”

Aziraphale smiled as he stood, never quite letting go of Crowley’s hand as they made their way from the room.


	14. The Vase

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Crowley had been in Hell when he’d heard about Pompeii’s destruction. For unknown reasons, both sides had wanted to scare the city. They’d both sent minor earthquakes to scare the citizens. But the combined force had done too much. The volcano was going to destroy everything.
> 
> Neither side cared.
> 
> But Pompeii had been the last place Crowley had seen Aziraphale. He’d hoped the angel would have moved on by now, but he had no way of knowing.
> 
> And so he fled, the only one running into the city as so many were leaving."

Crowley had fallen asleep on his couch, eyes entranced by the fire in the fireplace until they slid shut. He’d been able to feel that Aziraphale wasn’t far away. Most likely in the kitchen. The angel wouldn’t mind him nodding off for a bit.

He woke up to Aziraphale yelling.

Somehow the fire had moved from the fireplace and was crawling up one of the curtains on the wall. And then Aziraphale was back with a familiar vase filled with water, dousing the fire and ending the emergency as soon as it started.

Crowley wanted to push back the panic in his head. Fire. Angel. Fire. 

  
There wasn’t any action he needed to take. The angel was safe. The fire was out. His head was still screaming at him.

Aziraphale turned to look at him and was saying something. Crowley could see his mouth moving but he couldn’t hear him, not really. His eyes were concerned. Crowley could tell that. And then Aziraphale was touching his face, angel eyes just in front of his filling his field of vision. He thought he heard Aziraphale say his name.

And then as quickly as the panic had washed over him, Crowley gasped and suddenly was back.

“Crowley. Crowley, look at me. Crowley, love. Look at me. It’s alright. I’m here. Love.”

“Aziraphale.”

“Yes, love. I’m here.” And then Aziraphale was sitting next to him and pulling him into his arms, whispering in his ear.

Crowley tucked himself into Aziraphale’s arms, resting his head on his angel’s chest until he was feeling more normal.

“Do you want to talk about it, love?”

“Angel, I told you the book shop burned.”

Aziraphale gently kissed the top of his head. “It’s back now.”

“Yes, but-” Crowley sighed. “Aziraphale, I was there. I was- I was looking for you. You’d called and I went to find you and I was going to convince you to leave with me. You had to. There weren’t any options left. But then you were gone Aziraphale- I failed and couldn’t feel your presence and you were-” Crowley cut off in a dry sob.

Aziraphale gently rested his hand on Crowley’s cheek. “You’ve saved me. So many, many times my love. And I wasn’t gone, just foolishly discorporated myself. I’m here.”

Crowley’s voice came out broken. “Angel.”

Aziraphale gently kissed Crowley’s forehead and held him until the shaking stopped.

“I recognize that vase I used. Pompeii isn’t it? Why did you save it? That was such a horrible day.”

Crowley left a soft smile cross his face. “It was, but you’d come to save me that time. Didn’t quite work out, but I’ll never forget the look on your face when you saw me.”

\----------

**79 AD**

Crowley had been in Hell when he’d heard about Pompeii’s destruction. For unknown reasons, both sides had wanted to scare the city. They’d both sent minor earthquakes to scare the citizens. But the combined force had done too much. The volcano was going to destroy everything.

Neither side cared.

But Pompeii had been the last place Crowley had seen Aziraphale. He’d hoped the angel would have moved on by now, but he had no way of knowing.

And so he fled, the only one running into the city as so many were leaving. He realized as he entered the gates he that he could feel the angel in the city, but with so many emotions running high he couldn’t pinpoint where. 

He tried whispering a simple summoning, not caring about the consequences of any humans seeing it. There was too much divine and demonic power, it didn’t work. That was when Crowley started to truly panic.

The first place he started was Aziraphale’s home as he last knew it. He ran through the rooms, shouting Aziraphale’s name. But it was empty.

He ran out into the dark street. Evening was coming, but it shouldn’t be this dark yet. He coughed out some of the volcanic dust and he kept looking.

The theater was nearly empty. There were two children hiding in the back. Crowley pulled some money from his pocket for them, then told them to hold tightly to each other and trust him as he miracled them from the city. He hoped they’d find their way.

He kept looking for his angel.

All their favorite places were shuttered and closed. The baths were emptied out. Finally out of desperation, he went to his own home, hoping against hope that maybe the angel would have looked for him there.

The familiar golden curls were blackened with soot, but Crowley nearly sobbed with relief when he saw Aziraphale’s figure at his home. He had a vase he was using to try to put out a fire. It was hopeless. Crowley was glad nothing he cared for was in the home, because pumice had clearly collapsed the roof.

He shouted Aziraphale’s name and watched as the angel turned to face him. Relief. Relief played over Aziraphale’s face. He dropped the vase and ran towards Crowley.

Crowley knew he shouldn’t. He knew even now that there had to be someone watching. Then he decided the volcanic dust would shield nearly everything from view anyway and he threw himself into hugging Aziraphale.

Neither wanted to let go. Both knew they had to. Crowley glanced over Aziraphale’s shoulder at the vase and snapped a quick miracle to send it to his new home. Then he pulled back and looked at the angel.

“Why didn’t you leave the city?”

“Leave? I came back. I was looking for you. I was in Heaven reporting and they were talking about it and-”

Crowley couldn’t help the desperate laugh. “I was in Hell and the same happened, angel. I’d moved on months ago. Was in Rome again.”

“Neither of us were in the city?”

Crowley shook his head slowly. “No, but I did love this city and it won’t be here much longer.”

“I have to stay, Crowley. As long as I can. Since it was partly caused by demonic influences I can do whatever is possible to get people out. I doubt either of us could stop that” and Aziraphale waved the direction they both knew Vesuvius was in, “but I can help.”

There was no way Crowley was going to leave Aziraphale behind in the city that was quickly being buried alive. “I’ll stay, angel. Clearly, divine influence caused some of this. Not sure why the Almighty wants these people gone, but I’m obligated to save as many as possible to continue down the path of uh… destruction?” Crowley winced.

Aziraphale smiled softly at him and reached out his hand. “Don’t want you to get lost in the ash, you understand?”

Crowley gladly took the excuse to hold Aziraphale’s hand and they started through the city. Anyone they could miracle out, they did. It felt hopeless and never ending, but Crowley tried to focus on the fact that to the ones they were saving it certainly felt like a lot.

Through the night they kept searching. Eventually the streets grew more quiet, people began hiding inside. When they did Aziraphale and Crowley took to knocking. At this point, Aziraphale’s hair and clothes were so dark he could have passed as a demon himself. Instead most were thanking him as if they’d been sent by Minerva or perhaps Venus to save them. Neither bothered to correct the misconceptions.

Crowley knew the sun would be rising soon, if they could see it through the ash cloud. Aziraphale was to the point he was nearly stumbling on his feet. Performing miracles wasn’t overly draining, but doing so all night was.

Crowley felt the outcry before he saw what was coming. He felt pain. He looked up and saw a cloud bearing down on them. Aziraphale had moved a few feet from him, he’d just finished miracling a small family from the city.

Crowley sprinted towards him.

He felt the heat as he materialized his wings. He didn’t care who was looking now. He pulled Aziraphale into his arms, wrapping every bit of him he could find, miracling a small bubble made of his own body and wings. Believing without a doubt it could work as he felt the scorching heat hit his back.

Fire was nothing to Crowley. He had been through hell fire. While he usually felt the heat he was able to easily withstand it.

He stumbled as the heat of the pyroclastic surge hit him. He felt Aziraphale gasp in his arms. Whether from the heat or the pain of the humans around them he wasn’t sure, but he tightened his grip and his resolve.

Everything would be just fine.

He felt the heat. He ignored it. He looked down at the angel in his arms. Aziraphale was sweating, but he was fine. He wasn’t discorporating. He was staring at Crowley, his face shocked.

Aziraphale reached up to gently cup Crowley’s cheek. Then he closed his eyes.

Crowley didn’t have the strength to miracle them, not while keeping Aziraphale safe in his arms. Aziraphale did. Suddenly they were standing on an empty hillside. The sun was rising in the distance.

Aziraphale took one look around, almost seemed to nod to himself. Then he passed out in Crowley’s arms.

Crowley gently laid the angel down on the grass before collapsing next to him. He checked the angel over. Breathing. Aziraphale was breathing. He didn’t even feel warm to the touch, nor was Crowley feeling any pain radiating off of him. Crowley closed his eyes and let himself sleep.

When he woke up, Aziraphale was sitting next to him watching over him. He smiled softly. It was a sad smile.

“This city is gone. I can see it from here, but no one is left there. That pyroclastic flow-”

“It was painless for them at least.”

Aziraphale nodded. “And we were able to evacuate hundreds thanks to you.”

“Didn’t do anything.”

“You saved me. Again.”

Aziraphale miracled a bowl and cloth. He wiped the soot from Crowley’s face. “If you’re up to it, there’s a small river just behind here. I could clean your wings for you? Least I can do after.” Aziraphale waved towards the city.

Crowley nodded. He really would like to get the ash off. It wasn’t burning any longer, but he could feel it all. He let Aziraphale lead the way to the river and sat with his back to it as the angel gently cleansed his wing. Crowley managed to keep in the gasps. He couldn’t keep it the occasional shivers that Aziraphale’s hands caused grooming the sensitive feathers.

As he felt Aziraphale finish he stretched his wings and gently shook the water from them. Aziraphale gave a token protest at getting wet behind him, but it didn’t hide the noise of the shocked inhale he’d made at seeing Crowley’s wings stretched out in the sun. Crowley smiled. 

He tucked his wings back away and turned to the angel. “Your turn. Your hair, angel.”

“Yours is still filled with ash as well.”

They could both miracle it away easily enough, but there was something that Crowley knew would be healing about washing last night away. He gestured to the water.

Aziraphale nodded and pulled off his toga as he entered the water, giving it a quick wash and hanging it to dry first. Crowley did the same, then followed Aziraphale into the river.

They’d both started off cautiously. It wasn’t their first time naked together, they’d been to the Roman baths of course. But still, they were alone this time. They took turns washing each other’s hair, scrubbing the ash from it. Crowley was relieved to see Aziraphale’s curls turn back to their normal golden white pristine color.

Somehow, despite the night before or perhaps because of it, they both grew increasingly more relaxed. That was the first time Aziraphale grinned mischievously as he pushed Crowley’s head under the water.

Crowley sputtered as he came back up, and then the games were on. They’d watched humans play similar water games for eons, somehow never participating. Never realizing how fun they were.

They both seemed to realize the sun was setting at the same time.

Crowley sighed as he looked towards the river bank. He didn’t want the day to end. He knew today had been stolen. He didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve whatever this had been.

Aziraphale reached for his hand under the water. He squeezed it gently. He opened his mouth to say something and then didn’t seem to know what to say. Finally he spoke. “Rome, then? If I need to find you?”

“For now, angel.”

Aziraphale smiled. “I don’t suppose you’d care for a spot of dinner before we go our separate ways? I’m not sure what Rome is offering these days.”

Crowley seized the excuse for just a little more time with the angel. “Of course. I know the perfect spot.”

After they were dressed, Crowley was the one who transported them to Rome. He couldn’t help but note the difference between the city last night and today’s bustling metropolis. He looked at Aziraphale and the angel smiled at him. He took a breath and reminded himself things would be okay.

\------------------------------------------

**Modern Era**

“That night was exhausting.” Aziraphale whispered into Crowley’s hair.

Crowley murmured his assent. “But the next day… I’m still not sure how we got away with that.” Crowley raised his head up and glanced at Aziraphale. “My turn to take us somewhere, angel?”

“Anywhere you’d like, dear.”

Crowley smiled and Aziraphale held onto him tightly as they dematerialized. This time when they reappeared it was on an empty beach. Crowley slowly pulled himself from Aziraphale’s arms so he could stand up and offer Aziraphale a hand up.

“Come swim with me?”

This time they slowly undressed each other on their way, their clothes littering the beach as they made their way to the water.

Crowley was the first to playfully drag Aziraphale underwater this time, though he went with him. Both came up sputtering and laughing.

As it grew dark, neither made a move to stop their time in the water this time. They hadn’t had nearly long enough, and the moon gave enough light for them at any rate.

Eventually around sunrise they made their way back to the beach, stretched out across each other, relaxing in the warmth of the rising sun.

“You know, my dear. I rather like the beach.”

“Maybe we could spend a little time at one, angel.”

Aziraphale smiled as he curled himself a little closer to Crowley. Crowley wasn’t sure if he was feeling more warmth from the sun or the angel at his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're nearing the end. Unless there are some, er, angelic influences I have three more chapters mapped out to bring us to 17. That will complete the story, but there is going to be at least an 18th chapter that will be... mildly more comedic. Okay maybe a lot more comedic. Just a few snippets of souvenirs that didn't quite fit into the story here perfectly.
> 
> Almost there and utterly unsure what to do with myself once this fic is completed <3


	15. The Music Sheet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Aziraphale could have just miracled the scissors, but he decided it was time to get up and stretch regardless. He took the paper with him with the advert he’d circled, meaning to cut it out. Wondering if he should discuss it with Crowley.
> 
> He set the paper down on the desk as he opened the drawer. Right on top were the scissors he needed, but as he pulled them out something underneath caught his eyes. There was a sheet of music.
> 
> He pulled it out and read through it. It was poignant. And he’d never heard it before."

“Crowley, dear, do you have some scissors?”

Crowley glanced up from his phone. “Top drawer in the desk, angel.”

Aziraphale could have just miracled the scissors, but he decided it was time to get up and stretch regardless. He took the paper with him with the advert he’d circled, meaning to cut it out. Wondering if he should discuss it with Crowley.

He set the paper down on the desk as he opened the drawer. Right on top were the scissors he needed, but as he pulled them out something underneath caught his eyes. There was a sheet of music.

He pulled it out and read through it. It was poignant. And he’d never heard it before. There was no name on it. He wondered if Crowley had written it, and if not who had.

“Crowley, dear?”

“Angel?”

Aziraphale crossed back into the living room, eyes not leaving the sheet of music. “There was some music in your desk. Is it something you wrote?”

Aziraphale’s eyes snapped up as he heard Crowley’s breath hitch. He carefully, but quickly set the sheet on the side table and sat down, opening his arms in invitation.

Crowley was in his arms a heart beat later. He didn’t cry, but he seemed to be holding his breath.

Aziraphale buried his head in the demon’s hair. “I’m here. I’ve got you. It’s okay, I’m here.” Barely more than a whisper, but he could feel Crowley slowly relaxing in his arms.

Eventually Crowley leaned back, staring at Aziraphale. “It’s- it’s not mine, angel. Souvenir.”

“Do you want to tell me about it?”

\------------------------------------------------------------------

**1986**

It had only taken two weeks from the time they joined the Queen tour for Aziraphale and Crowley to be assigned to the same room at hotels. Though none of the band kept any sort of normal sleeping schedule, both of them had been known to go days without sleeping at all. 

“I knew me coming along was a bad idea. How exactly are we going to explain this to our respective head offices?”

“Er. You’re thwarting my wiles? What better way than as a roommate?”

The angel stared at the demon. “Really, Crowley? That’s the best you have?”

Crowley glanced around the sparse hotel room, just glad that there were two beds at least. It wasn’t that he minded sharing a room with the angel. But he wanted Aziraphale to be comfortable too.

“I can get another room, angel. Not a big deal.”

Aziraphale’s face reddened. “Nonsense. It’d be a waste, we have a perfectly good one here.”

“Doubt we’ll be in it much anyway, right?”

That was before most of the crew got sick off of some bad food and they’d had to spend 24 hours cooped up together. Both had decided it would be even more suspicious if they were the only ones who didn’t get sick who partook of the bad food.

They were on hour ten now. And Crowley was pacing. He was an immortal being who loved spending time with the other being in the room and had spent upteenth hours with him over the millenia. And he was pacing.

“Please, dear, relax?”

“I know, angel. I just… feel like we’re trapped in here.”

“Would a game help? Chess? Something to read?”

Crowley waved him off. Aziraphale watched him. Six steps across the room, quick spin, six steps back.

“What do the humans do when they’re bored?” Crowley muttered.

“Oh I don’t know. Lots of things. Truth or dare?”

Crowley froze. “Angel, we can’t exactly play truth or dare when we can’t leave the room to do any dares.”

Aziraphale sighed and moved to make room on the bed next to him. “Crowley, if you’ll just sit down and stop pacing for five minutes I will answer any question you want me to. Truth or truth.”

Crowley threw himself down on the foot of the bed looking at the angel. He could see some doubt starting to form in Aziraphale’s eyes, but when the angel spoke it wasn’t to back down.

“Crowley are you really that incapable of sitting?”

“You said I could ask the questions.”

Aziraphale closed his mouth and Crowley stared into the angel’s blue eyes. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Gold.” Aziraphale answered too fast without thinking. He was staring at the demon and his eyes widened slightly before he seemed to calm himself down again. Crowley filed that response away to examine later, it’d been a rather innocent question after all. While Crowley was thinking up another response Aziraphale opened his mouth. “Or maybe red.”

Crowley smiled. “Favorite place you’ve lived?”

“London. You know that.” Again with the fast response, but this time Aziraphale didn’t look nervous in his admittance. “The bookshop. Closest thing to home we’ve had.” And then Aziraphale’s face reddened again. Crowley was definitely filing that one away to consider later.

Crowley stared at Aziraphale, considering. He wondered how far he could push the angel. What other truths may come spilling out. Angel, how do you feel about me? Really? But he could never ask that. Never risk that. “Favorite time of day?”

Aziraphale seemed to think that one through a bit more. “Evening, usually. When it’s quiet and the shop is closed and the only company is-” He cut off. “Well, you I suppose.”

Crowley wondered if Aziraphale knew how much he was revealing. The angel stared at him, their eyes still hadn’t broken contact. Crowley decided to risk a bit more. “Have you ever been in love?”

“What kind of question is that?” Aziraphale turned away, looking flustered.

“Just a question, angel. You said anything.”

“I- Yes. Yes I have.”

Crowley thought he’d wanted the answer to that question. Now he was terrified of it. Had it been with him, or was it a long time ago? Some other angel? Maybe even a human? Aziraphale wasn’t staring at him now, what did that mean? He couldn’t just ask. Well, he could but- Instead he waited for Aziraphale to turn back. Once the angel had calmed and was looking at him again, he tried for the next question. He tried to go gentle, he didn’t want to scare Aziraphale off. “Favorite Queen song?”

Aziraphale seemed to consider him for a moment. “I want to break free.”

Crowley pushed down all the feelings that tried to surface. He supposed the angel had heard it enough times in the intervening months. Perhaps that was all it was. Crowley stared at the angel. Aziraphale opened his mouth, then shut it again.

“What were you thinking just now?”

Aziraphale smiled. “That I’d like to ask you some questions, too.”

Crowley wondered what his response should be, but then he knew he’d never been able to say no to the angel in front of him. “Go ahead, angel.”

Aziraphale reached down and took Crowley’s hand gently. “Do you like this?”

“I- angel! That’s- it’s not supposed to include touching!”

“I can let go if you’d like, but you do have to answer the question.”

Aziraphale started to pull his hand back and Crowley tightened his grip on it. “I- no- yes. Yes I like it when you hold my hand, angel. Don’t stop? Please?”

Aziraphale’s eyes were dancing. “And, would you like it if I kissed you right now?”

“NGK.” Crowley buried his head into the comforter. 

“Not an answer, my dear.”

“I- I didn’t know we could ask questions like that.” Crowley’s voice was barely audible from being pushed into the bed.

Aziraphale waited, silently. But his he was slowly tracing circles on Crowley’s hand as he waited.

Finally there was a muffled. “Yes.”

“Crowley, why don’t you?”

And this time Crowley didn’t protest. There was just a shudder running through his body. Finally he sat up, slowly pulling his hand from Aziraphale’s grasp.

His voice was barely a whisper as he stared into Aziraphale’s eyes. “Angel you know why.”

Aziraphale shook his head.

“Angel, they’d- they’d destroy you. Even this is such a risk. They’d make you fall, they’d hurt you. I’ve seen what Heaven is capable of, Aziraphale.” He paused. The next was a barely audible mutter. “And I don’t want to go too fast.”

Crowley stared into Aziraphale’s eyes. Hoping he’d understand. Knowing he would. Knowing he’d risk anything, everything for the angel in front of him. And truly, the last part was the truth. He’d take on all of Heaven and Hell if it meant keeping the angel safe. Aziraphale was staring at him, his mouth opened and then closed slowly.

“I’m sorry, Crowley. I- I shouldn’t have done that to you.”

“Angel?”

“Yes?”

“Would you want to kiss me?” The question was soft. He didn’t break eye contact.

“Yes, Crowley. Yes.” Aziraphale’s voice was soft. Both knew it wasn’t tonight. Both knew they shouldn’t. 

Crowley’s hand raised slowly towards the angel then he seemed to think better of it. He let it fall back to his side. “I’m, er, going to try to get some sleep, yeah angel?”

Aziraphale nodded. Crowley turned to his own bed, crawling in and facing away from the angel.

They both knew he wasn’t sleeping. They were both lost in their own thoughts, trying not to close the distance between them.

\--

Three days before the tour ended Freddie walked up to the table Crowley was sitting at. Crowley raised an eyebrow. It wasn’t rare for anyone to seek him out, but everyone knew that Freddie was his favorite and the feeling was mutual.

Freddie placed a sheet of paper on the table in front of him. Crowley glanced down, noting it was music.

“Tour ends soon. Guessing I won’t be seeing much of you.”

“You know I’d come whenever.”

Freddie smiled at that. “Still. Lot going on, y’know.” Freddie’s eyes glanced over his head to where Aziraphale’s golden curls were shining in the sunlight beyond. “Life goes fast. Especially now, it seems. Ends fast, too. Best to tell people how we feel while we can, I think.” He paused, considering. “You deserve that. But he does too. Deserves to know that is.”

He looked down into Crowley’s sunglasses. He was one of the few that had adjusted to the snake eyes, but it was best for the rest if Crowley kept them covered. Crowley stared back. Then he nodded. “Thanks, Freddie.”

“Sure. Ride in your car soon? She’s a beautiful car.”

Crowley smiled. “That she is. Anytime you want.”

Freddie turned and walked off. Crowley glanced down at the sheet music in his hand. Across the top was scribbled the title  _ Golden Looks _ .

“Well that’s not at all subtle.” He muttered. He turned, staring briefly at Aziraphale. Then he looked back to the music, trying to hum a read through.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Modern Era**

Crowley leaned back. “Freddie gave it to me. Towards the end of the tour. 1980’s?”

Aziraphale smiled. “We’d shared hotel rooms for the majority of that trip. I was terrified we’d be found out.” Aziraphale raised an eyebrow. “I was also having a hard time keeping any distance between us.”

“Freddie noticed.” Crowley paused for a moment. “You know, the Bentley adored him.”

“He noticed?”

Crowley nodded. “Did you read the lyrics?”

Aziraphale didn’t release his grasp on the demon in his arms as he leaned over and gently picked up the sheet music. His eyes widened as he read about the golden eyes staring at their lover with new perspective.

“We can’t have been that obvious.” Aziraphale whispered.

Crowley chuckled in his arms. “Should’ve just kissed you that night and been done with it. Swept you away to be mine forever. Off to Alpha Centauri for us both.”

Aziraphale leaned down and kissed the top of his head. “Well, at least now I can kiss you whenever I want.”

“Shame we’re not sharing a room.” Crowley said, halfway joking. It was a rare night spent apart at this point.

Aziraphale slowly put the music sheet down before he spoke again. “I was thinking about that, my love. What if we got our own place? Not the bookshop or your flat but a place that’s just for us.”

Crowley nuzzled the angel. “Think I’d like that.”

Aziraphale’s smile was beautiful as he leaned in to kiss Crowley again.

\-----

It was a few hours later that Crowley went to place the music sheet back in his desk where it went. He saw the news paper Aziraphale had been looking at, one advert still circled. It was a lovely cottage along the water. It was secluded, but not far from things if they wanted to dash home. There was a small garden attached and one of the rooms actually had a built in bookcase.

He reached into the drawer for the scissors and cut out the advert. He had an idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the reason this chapter was so slow coming is because the fic insisted on writing itself backwards.
> 
> The bad news is, that's why it took so long. The good news is all the rest of the actual chapters are done (I'm still debating an outtakes. Do you all want outtakes? You may get them anyway).
> 
> I have been utterly stopped from posting all the chapters at once, so it should be one chapter every three daysish until the end. Just three more chapters to go <3 That schedule may get thrown off by MarsCon, but I'll do my best.


	16. The Music Box

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Aziraphale walked through the door of Crowley’s flat, leaving Crowley no recourse but to follow him. As soon as the door clicked shut, he turned and leveled his eyes on the demon. “Tell me, Crowley.”
> 
> Crowley grimaced at how the angel had said his name. “Later, Aziraphale. S’not-”
> 
> “Crowley, you’re keeping something from me and I won’t be able to enjoy my meal worrying about it.”
> 
> Crowley sighed. Then he reached behind him and slowly held out an antique music box."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tonight's music selection brought to you by one of my favorite angels <3
> 
> Suggested reading music: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4Tr0otuiQuU
> 
> This chapter dedicated to my favorite Regency Crowley <3

Crowley paced nervously. He knew he didn’t need to be worried but- He kept pacing. He straightened the tie on his neck. Why was he even wearing a tie? He pulled it off and threw it to the bed.

Aziraphale would be here soon. Dinner. Just dinner. Nothing to worry about, not like this wasn’t every day now.

He kept pacing.

He heard a knock on the door and half tripped over himself in his haste to get to the door. He waved his hand over his hair quickly to make sure it was looking its best.

As the door swung open, Crowley didn’t know why he was worried. Aziraphale was standing there. Smiling. For him. “I’ve told you, you don’t need to knock, angel.”

“Oh I know, love, but old habits…” Aziraphale trailed off as he eyed Crowley. He raised an eyebrow. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing, dear, why’d you ask?”

“Dear?”

“Yes?”

Aziraphale was staring at him. Eyebrows nearly to his hairline. Crowley didn’t know what to do. He decided to distract. “Dinner, angel?” Crowley went to walk past Aziraphale, leading the way out.

“I think not.” Aziraphale’s voice echoed from behind him.

Crowley froze. “Wot?”

Aziraphale walked through the door of Crowley’s flat, leaving Crowley no recourse but to follow him. As soon as the door clicked shut, he turned and leveled his eyes on the demon. “Tell me, Crowley.”

Crowley grimaced at how the angel had said his name. “Later, Aziraphale. S’not-”

“Crowley, you’re keeping something from me and I won’t be able to enjoy my meal worrying about it.”

Crowley sighed. Then he reached behind him and slowly held out an antique music box.

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow. “Souvenir? But.. why?”

“Just open it, angel.”

Aziraphale slowly opened the lid of the box. As he did, Beethoven's Piano Sonata No. 14 began to softly play.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

**1801 - London**

Crowley found himself all but sulking in the corner of the masquerade ball he was attending. He knew he needed to get out into the middle of things. Perform some temptation. Entice some people to not be their best selves.

His eyes slipped shut behind the mask and he saw an angel’s face lighting up with delight at flowers and chocolates. He suppressed a groan. How was he supposed to work when all he could think about was the angel and his smile and-

Crowley forced that train of thought to stop. He glanced out into the room, trying to find someone who’d be a target for his wiles tonight. A few temptations, get someone to look one way when they should be looking the other and he’d have a report to send back to the head office. It was so easy at these masquerade balls. No one thought to question anything. 

He slid among the guests, gently prodding some in different directions. At least one he was pretty certain he was actually helping, but the young man he’d been eyeing had looked so forlorn without his approach.

Crowley smiled as he continued his way across the room. He was careful not to get personally involved. Wasn’t anyone here he was interested in anyway.

He spotted a solitary figure he couldn’t quite make out in one of the alcoves and decided to go investigate.

As he drew closer, he felt a familiar presence. Angel. Aziraphale. The one being he wanted to see and yet- Well regardless this evening was about to get a lot more interesting and he leaned on the entrance to the alcove.

“May I tempt you this evening, oh beautiful one?”

Aziraphale’s had been gazing out the window but his head snapped to Crowley, mouth agape. Then his eyes widened. Crowley knew there was no way the angel wouldn’t know it was him. If the shape of his corporation and the red hair spilling out hadn’t given him away, the aura certainly would.

Aziraphale’s eyes widened behind the mask he was wearing. And then he smiled. Crowley could see the smile reach his eyes, even without being able to see most of his face. “Oh temptor of my heart, I would be utterly delighted.” Aziraphale held out his hand.

Crowley felt his heart stutter a bit. Then it began racing. He tried to calm it. “To the gardens, perhaps, my divine?”

He wondered if Aziraphale realized there was a slight glow coming from the blue eyes locked on his as the angel nodded. Crowley turned, not sure he could take staring into those eyes anymore, and gently pulled Aziraphale’s hand out into the mansion’s garden.

As they entered the garden side by side Aziraphale tightened his grip on Crowley’s hand. Then he gave a soft tug, pulling Crowley’s side up against his, their bodies brushing with every moment. Crowley gulped.

“This may be far too early in our knowing of each other, but you look utterly exquisite tonight.” Aziraphale whispered, too soft for anyone else nearby to hear.

“My beauty cannot hope to compare to that of the being on my arm.” And Crowley turned to Aziraphale. He was delighted, but questioning. Aziraphale’s eyes weren’t glowing anymore, but there was something deep inside them Crowley didn’t think he’d seen.

“I’m glad I’m able to enchant you this fine evening. Though it is but the first time we met, I’ve a feeling it’s best to keep you away from the others you could enthrall to your wiles.” Aziraphale smiled softly, still looking at Crowley.

Crowley realized that was his excuse them. Mysterious masked being. Aziraphale was simply distracting him. But what did it mean? Then he cursed himself. He knew what it meant, just as he’d known what it meant when he’d taken the angel those flowers and yet-

“Would you care to join me for a simple meal this evening?”

Crowley simply nodded. Aziraphale led the way this time, gently pulling him down a path and into a more secluded spot. Crowley truly wasn’t sure if the blanket and food had been there previously and the angel had planned this or if he’d simply miracled them into being during their walk. But there was a blanket covering a small patch of grass. A bottle of wine, some cheese, a loaf of bread, and a bowl of strawberries sat on it.

Crowley tried to keep his cool as the angel gestured for him to sit. Then the angel sat, leaning against him. Reaching out to open the wine, ensuring that a part of him was still touching Crowley. Crowley tried to get his thoughts in order. Apparently his angel liked role playing, or perhaps it was just the freedom as they were masked to do exactly as he’d always wanted to do.

Crowley sipped at the glass of wine Aziraphale handed him, hoping it would calm some of the racing in his body.

And then Aziraphale was holding out a bite of cheese for him to try. Not holding it towards his hand, no. Aziraphale was holding it close to his lips. Crowley wondered if he dared take that offer, and then his lips were closing on the bit of cheese and Aziraphale’s hand was gently brushing his lips before they both pulled back, looking away.

Crowley grasped Aziraphale’s hand. Willing him not to leave. He wasn’t sure what it was about the masks but-

“Imagine me behaving in such a way with someone I’ve only just met.” Aziraphale whispered.

Crowley squeezed Aziraphale’s hand gently. “Oh I rather liked it.”

“You- you did?”

“Did you?”

“Yes, I mean, of course I-” Aziraphale cut off turning to face Crowley. “I’d like to try too I think?”

Crowley picked the stem off a strawberry, holding out for Aziraphale as the angel had for him. Aziraphale leaned forward, plucking it from his hands and then Crowley was feeling the angel’s lips for the first time. They were soft and welcoming and- Crowley forced the thought back down. Regardless of the masks his angel could still be in danger and-

And his lips felt so soft beneath his fingers. He let his hand rest on the mask. Tempted to pull it off and throw it away. Allowing himself to become lost in the angel’s eyes again. He heard the danger bells in the back of his head. This was his angel. They could hurt him. They could make him fall. He was so beautiful.

“Beatific darling of my heart, I think we should go back inside.”

Aziraphale’s voice came out barely more than a breathy whisper. “Our meal isn’t done.”

Crowley pushed back the thought that he wanted so much more than a meal right now. He wasn’t sure why tonight of all nights Aziraphale was letting his guard down, but he couldn’t. Not even with the masks. Heaven could see through them.

He forced himself to stand up, offering a hand down to Aziraphale. Aziraphale stood with a sigh, but didn’t let go of Crowley’s hand. If a simple touch could burn Crowley thought all his skin may be alight.

As they got closer to the ball, the music began to drift out. Aziraphale suddenly stopped. 

“Dance with me?”

For a moment, Crowley slipped. The mask slightly dropped as he realized he couldn’t give Aziraphale quite what he wanted. “I- I can’t dance, angel. Never learned.”

“Here. No one else is out here. They won’t see.”

Beethoven’s Piano Sonata No. 14 surrounded them. It’d been popular lately Crowley knew, but he still had no idea how to dance with the angel.

Then it no longer mattered as Aziraphale was pulling him closer, a hand on his hips and beginning to pull him along to the beat.

Crowley knew no one would describe what they did as dancing. At best it was swaying to the music while occasionally shuffling their feet. Twice Crowley had accidentally stepped on Aziraphale’s toes.

The angel had laughed it off and told him not to worry about it. They danced, or rather tried to. Crowley didn’t care how horrible they were at it. Not when the angel’s eyes were looking at him in pure ecstasy. And the angel was in his arms. He tried to force himself to be worried that someone would see.

He couldn’t. And they danced. Or tried to. Mostly they focused on the feeling of the other in their arms.

Slowly the song came to a close and while Aziraphale’s smile faded some of the usual caution came back over here. “I suppose we really must be getting back to the ball.”

Crowley followed him the rest of the evening. There was small talk to be made and miracles to be sent. Crowley of course countered a few of them with a temptation. Neither could find it in their heart to move too far from the other.

Finally they found themselves back in the alcove where the night had all begun.

Aziraphale raised his hand gently to Crowley’s. “Come home with me tonight?”

Crowley pushed down a gasp at the invitation. There was a weight to it he hadn’t heard before. There was a look in Aziraphale’s eyes he’d never seen before. Again, the act slipped. “Angel?”

Aziraphale’s hand moved to touch his cheek. “I do believe the custom when you find someone at one of these… events. Is to take them home for the evening.”

Aziraphale’s eyes were drilling into him. He wanted to say yes. He wanted to say yes more than anything he’d ever wanted in his life. But something tightened around his heart. More than he wanted to say yes, he wanted, always to keep the angel safe. His angel, yes but no one else could know that.

A sad smile came to Crowley’s face as he stared at Aziraphale. “Some other time, my mysterious beauty who I definitely do not plan to meet tomorrow afternoon in the park.”

Aziraphale nodded in understanding and Crowley waited for him to remove his hand, for them to return to the safety they’d always had. And then almost hastily the words tumbled from Aziraphale’s lips. “A kiss good night, then?”

Crowley could say no to going back to the bookshop. He could not say no to a kiss. It was the closing of inches for Crowley to bring his face to Aziraphale’s. Aziraphale’s lips were soft under his. He felt the angel’s hand move from his cheek to his hair as he leaned further into the kiss. He wrapped his arms around the angel, pulling their bodies together.

He could stay like this forever. He wished it was possible.

Crowley broke the kiss, gasping. Aziraphale seemed to gather himself. He smiled softly as he pulled back from the demon. “I surely won’t be at the park tomorrow afternoon. Three’o’clock. Near the duck pond.”

And then the angel turned and walked away, leaving Crowley staring after him. He still wasn’t quite sure what had happened.

Crowley didn’t leave the alcove for at least an hour. When he did, he felt like he was stumbling. 

But just outside the ball was a man trying to tempt the affluent leaving into buying his wares. Crowley barely spared him a glimpse until he heard the music. Beethovan’s song. The one they had danced to. Not as full of course but, still there.

“That music box. I’ll take it.”

He’d cradled the music box carefully in his arms during the walk home. The rest of the night he lay listening to it. Wishing against all hope that there were an angel in his arms again. He dreamed of home.

\--------------------------------------------

**Modern Era**

“Where did you- Crowley-” Aziraphale closed his mouth and instead just looked up at the demon as the music quietly played between them.

Crowley smiled softly. “There was a vendor. Outside the ball.” He lifted his hand to Aziraphale’s cheek. “I was glad, didn’t want to forget anything of that night.”

Aziraphale’s eyes fell again to the simple wooden music box. Then his eyebrows knit in confusion. “Why is there a key in here?”

“I- uh… That is Aziraphale-” Crowley stared. He tried to will the words out of his mouth. They simply wouldn’t come.

Now Aziraphale looked confused and Crowley cursed internally. The angel wasn’t supposed to be sad, he’d wanted this moment to be perfect and the angel was simply staring at him, waiting.

“Love, whatever it is, please just tell me.” Aziraphale’s voice was gentle, almost coaxing.

Finally it came out in a rush. “I bought it.”

Azraphale looked more confused than ever. “You bought a key?”

“The cottage. In the South Downs. I saw your paper and you’d mentioned a home just for us and Aziraphale will you move in with me?” Crowley stared. No going back now. Just hopes he’d not again gone too fast. Fears that he had.

Aziraphale turned, softly setting the music box still playing on the table behind him. “I suppose I could be tempted. I do have one request first.”

“Request?”

“Dance with me? No masks this time.”

Crowley looked stricken. “Angel, you know I can’t-”

“Nonsense.” And Aziraphale was pulling him into his arms. Truthfully, neither could dance to this music properly. But they were in each other’s arms, and that was all they cared about.

Eventually the song tapered to a close and Crowley was staring at the angel in his arms, and this time he was leaning in for another kiss. As their lips met Crowley couldn’t help but think he’d never get used to this soft touch.

Aziraphale pulled back. “A home. Just for us. Our first real home together?”

Crowley nodded.

“I know I saw the pictures, but being there isn’t the same. When can we go see it?”

“Anytime you want, angel. It’s all yours now.”

Aziraphale pulled him in for another soft kiss. When he pulled back this time he was whispering. “No. It’s ours.”

Crowley smiled, and pulled the being he’d always think of as home tighter into his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At some point, someone not me wrote lyrics. Please enjoy some additional angst, because I'm sure Crowley somehow inspired this.
> 
> "Cant believe its over  
That you're leaving  
Weren't we meant to be?  
Should've sensed the danger  
Read the warnings  
Right there in front of me  
Just stop  
Lets start it over  
Couldn't I get one more try?  
Maybe tomorrow you'll say that you're mine  
You'll realize, I could change  
I'm gonna show you I'm in it for life  
I'll get you back someday  
Maybe tomorrow  
I forgot to be there  
I was selfish  
I can see that now  
I should've got to known you  
Should've held you  
When your tears fell down  
Just stop  
Don't make me beg you  
Tell me that you'll stay the night  
Maybe tomorrow you'll say that you're mine  
You'll realize, I could change  
I'm gonna show you I'm in it for life  
I'll get you back someday  
I will find a way  
Wait a minute  
Just hear me out  
This time I promise, I'll put you first  
Turn around now  
Your heart can't let you walk away  
I'll do what it takes  
Maybe tomorrow you'll say that you're mine  
You'll realize (realize), I could change (I can change)  
I'm gonna show you I'm in it for life  
I'll get you back someday  
Maybe tomorrow  
There's so much I wanna say now  
I just wanna make a life with you (don't walk away)  
There's so much I wanna do now  
I just wanna make love to you  
Maybe tomorrow  
Maybe tomorrow"


	17. The Bookmark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Then Aziraphale pulled a book off the shelf he hadn’t seen in years.
> 
> “Angel, is that?”
> 
> Aziraphale hummed. “Yes, my dear. That one you saved for me. From Atlantis. The original of course, not Adam’s.”
> 
> “You know I stole a bit of it. Kept it as a souvenir.”"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A part of this chapter won't make sense if you haven't read the chocolates cut scene from the book. It can be found here: https://imgur.com/a/CeOm3Tt

Crowley watched as Aziraphale pulled his favorite books from the bookshelves. He wasn’t closing the bookshop, no. But it didn’t mean that he would leave his most valued books here under Newt’s care when they weren’t around.

He watched as the angel paused, hand on one of the books.

“Angel, we don’t need to move if you don’t want to. We can stay here. Long as you want.”

“No. No, my dear. It’s not that. It’s just everywhere I look here I see you.”

Crowley smiled softly as he pulled the angel’s hand from the bookshelf. “I’m right here, angel. Always will be.”

Aziraphale’s hand came up to his cheek. “This will forever be the place where you became mine.”

“Nah, angel. That was Eden. It’s the place we acknowledged it.”

He brushed his lips gently across Aziraphale’s. “Want help?”

“Could you hold the box for me?”

So Crowley followed the angel as he went through the bookshop. He didn’t know how Aziraphale knew or decided which books were the ones special enough to go with them. He just watched.

Then Aziraphale pulled a book off the shelf he hadn’t seen in years.

“Angel, is that?”

Aziraphale hummed. “Yes, my dear. That one you saved for me. From Atlantis. The original of course, not Adam’s.”

“You know I stole a bit of it. Kept it as a souvenir.”

Aziraphale turned to look at him, indignant. “What do you mean a BIT OF IT?”

Crowley gently set down the box of books and then snapped his fingers. A unique bookmark, light blue in color, appeared in his hand. “Kept a souvenir. It was in the book.”

Aziraphale held out his hand, slowly taking the bookmark. When he brought it near the book, both began to glow lightly.

\------------------------------------------------------------

**453 BC**

Crowley was laying across one of the chairs in the library pretending to read a book when Aziraphale walked in for the first time. “Angel! Wasn’t expecting you for another six months!”

Aziraphale looked up, pretending to be startled. And then he smiled.

It was all the confirmation Crowley needed for his theory. Aziraphale was following him. Not always, but often. Crowley had specifically avoided any temptations in the city of Atlantis. Truthfully, he didn’t mind. He did wonder if the angel was aware he was doing it on purpose.

Crowley decided it was an excellent opportunity to spend some time with the angel over the next few months. They’d be in the same city after all, and for the time being he had no instructions from the office.

\------

“Really, Aziraphale, are you going to spend all day in this library?” Crowley threw himself halfway across the table in a gambit to get the angel’s attention. “There’s so many other things to see here.”

“I know, dear, but have you looked around? It truly is magnificent. I mean their organizational system itself is phenomenally advanced and look at how many of these so called books they’ve managed to bound. And so many topics!”

Crowley watched Aziraphale smile. Even with all the other wonders of the city, he’d rather sit here and watch the angel smile anytime. And he couldn’t really blame him, it wasn’t every day Aziraphale got to enjoy thousands of collections of written works. He knew they were quickly becoming a favorite of the angel’s. They’d both been here for over a year, but the angel rarely left the library. 

Neither did Crowley. He pushed down the thought that he may as well just show his hand and ask the angel to move in. Instead he changed the subject. “You know one of the scientists out there is trying to make wings. Wants to fly to the Heavens.”

He saw a brief moment of concern pass Aziraphale. “Like Babylon?”

Crowley felt a pit in his stomach. If the Almighty or whomever it was took offense on her behalf. “Sure it won’t come to that, angel.”

\------

They’d had three years. Three years of casual dinners and meetings. This was the first place they’d opted to just spend time together and now.

“Did you hear me? They’re going to destroy the city. Something about it being too prideful, but it doesn’t matter. I can’t, I’m not allowed to get the people out.” Aziraphale’s voice cracked. “It’s like the flood all over again.”

“You can’t get people out.”

Aziraphale’s eyes were starting to water. He shook his head. Crowley wanted to reach out, wanted to pull him into his arms. Wanted to tell him how very wrong Heaven was and how very good he was.

“Clearly then, I should be trying to save as many of the sinners in this city as I can.” Crowley started walking off. “Going to come try to thwart me, angel?”

He tried not to think of the fact that he’d been beginning to think of this place as a home of sorts. He had no right to, not truly. He didn’t deserve a home with an angel anyway. Right now though, he would do anything to take that look off Aziraphale’s face. And the fastest way to do that was to save the people even if he couldn’t save the city.

He thanked whoever that they’d thought to put an alarm system for a city wide evacuation. It only took a quick miracle to convince them to activate it.

As the system was lit and blared, people began pouring out. Crowley hoped it was fast enough. He went to turn to the angel with a smile, but caught a glimpse of a child huddled in an alley. He stopped and turned. “Where’s your family?”

“Don’t have one.”

Crowley cursed. Of course the city wouldn’t have a plan for those it didn’t deem important.

“You hear the warning gongs, right? You know you’re supposed to leave?”

“Don’t know where to go.”

Another child noticed the conversation and sidled up. “How many of you are there?”

They both shrugged.

“Okay, look. Can you round up everyone, anyone who doesn’t know where to go? Bring them to the docks? You know where the docks are right?”

He waited until the child was staring into his snake eyes. Fearless this one. She nodded.

“Meet me at the one with the big number 3, alright. Can you bring everyone there? One hour.”

She nodded and pulled the other child behind her, scampering down the alley. Crowley hoped it would be enough.

He turned in time to see Aziraphale, his eyes soft staring at him. He suppressed the urge to hiss.

An hour later at the docks he made sure the final boat got off, fully loaded with the crowd of children the girl had managed to gather. Crowley turned back to the city, reaching out. Feeling.

“I don’t feel anyone left, angel. Just us.”

Aziraphale nodded. “Me as well. You did it.”

“Couldn’t have done it without your warning.”

“You- you saved the city.”

Crowley watched a fireball come down from the sky. It was time for them, and especially for the angel, to get out of there.

“Not the city, angel. Just the people.”

From the corner of his eye he saw Aziraphale’s hand raise towards him, reaching out before it fell back to his side. “I was beginning to think of it as home.”

Crowley sighed. “Me too. But you need to get out of here.” Another fireball fell, that one looked like it was hitting the markets.

“The library.” And Aziraphale said it with a pain in his voice. Crowley flinched as another fireball hit, this one on the docks not so far away.

“You can’t save it. We need to go. We shouldn’t be seen together. I’ll leave right after you.”

“It’s dangerous.”

“Fire won’t hurt me, angel.” He reminded himself he was still a demon. Despite the last few years. Despite how this had felt like home.

He turned and unfurled his wings, waiting for Aziraphale to do the same. He watched Aziraphale give him one last look over his shoulder and he flew away from the boats and out of the city.

Then Crowley took off. But he didn’t leave the city. Not yet. Instead he headed for the library. He heard a crash and realized he didn’t have long, but he ran to where he knew Aziraphale’s favorite section was. He debated which book for a split second, but Aziraphale had never cared for technology. No, instead he grabbed the  _ History of Atlantis _ . The one that told their history and their myths and stories.

He fled the city as he watched parts of it begin to sink, somehow still burning.

As he stood on a hill watching the destruction he noticed a bookmark in the book. He slid it out and into his pocket. He’d keep that one for himself.

\--------

It only took a month for Aziraphale to catch up to him again. He eyes looked tired when he did. 

Crowley didn’t say anything at first. He just silently held out the book. 

“You saved it? For me?”

Crowley nodded wordlessly. The risk was more than worth the smile that crossed the angel’s face.

“Thank you.”

Crowley went home that night and stared at the bookmark. He considered what home was and thought of a smiling angel.

\---------------------------------------------------------------

**Modern Era**

The bookmark and book glowed softly before settling back in. “Reunited at least.” Aziraphale whispered reverently as he carefully packed both into the box.

Crowley smiled at seeing them together. The book and the souvenir. The first place that felt like home, but now they’d have their first true home together. Reunited, as they should have been from the beginning.

Crowley took Aziraphale’s hand and kissed it softly before the angel turned back to the cluttered shelves.

Then he saw the angel freeze. His hand was on the medal. The one Gabriel had brought all those years ago, the one that had almost meant that Aziraphale would be leaving his home. The one where Heaven tried to destroy the only home Crowley had-

He watched emotions play across Aziraphale’s face. Then to Crowley’s horror Aziraphale began shaking with wracking sobs. 

“Angel?”

“They- Crowley they never liked me. They tried to destroy anything, anywhere that was home.” Another wracking sob and Crowley was wrapping his arms around his angel from behind. “All this time, Crowley. All of it and all they gave me was a sham.”

“Shh. Angel.”

“No, Crowley. They destroyed an entire city. Was it just because of us? Were they watching us that long?”

“No, angel that’s not your-”

“And then this foolish, pointless medal. They tried to give it to me as an excuse to take me away. Away from here. Because they knew I was happy, and they couldn’t stand it.”

If Crowley had ever doubted Aziraphale’s strength before, he didn’t as the angel’s hand tightened and the medal seem to collapse into a bronze ball.

“They took the home we made, Crowley. And then they tried to take me. And now.” 

“Now they won’t come anywhere near you again, Aziraphale.”

“But what if-”

He nuzzled into Aziraphale’s neck. “My home. Here. With you. Wherever you are. They won’t take this. Won’t let them.”

The angel just smiled at him and Crowley thought he’d never seen anything so beautiful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So literally I tried to put myself on a schedule because it's all written and then my life got super complicated and went to hell in a hand basket for a few days (I did check, no Antichrist in said basket). Which, given, is not that far away from normal operating parameters for my snek demon self, but I will do my best to have the last chapter up in three days. Truly.
> 
> The last chapter is a little shorter and then I've got a couple of cut scenes for you.


	18. The Angel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "“Well, my newest souvenir is truly adorable. Utterly and completely. It’s probably my favorite.”
> 
> Aziraphale looked away from the bandaging, seemingly satisfied, and at Crowley. “You said you didn’t have a favorite.”
> 
> “I got this new one since then.”
> 
> Aziraphaled continued to stare at Crowley, but raised his eyebrow in question."

Aziraphale let Crowley lead him from the front door of the cottage out to the water’s edge. The demon had wrapped his arms around him for a bit before being distracted by the fact that he could jump from rock to rock. Aziraphale smiled as he watched him.

Then he watched Crowley fall and the panic rose, he wasn’t quite fast enough to catch him. But Aziraphale slid to the ground pulling Crowley into his arms.

“Are you alright?”

“S’fine, angel. Just a scratch.” Crowley was smiling as he looked up at him. He reached up and touched his cheek gently.

Aziraphale stared down at his demon. “Crowley, you’re bleeding. There’s a cut on your head. And another on your arm.”

“Aziraphale, I’m fine, really.”

Aziraphale’s lips flattened as he stood up, then he scooped Crowley into his arms. Crowley debated making a protest, then shrugged and curled into Aziraphale’s embrace as the angel carried him back into the house.

Aziraphale gently placed him sitting on the counter as he pulled his head in close to examine it. The angel tsked for a moment, then miracled a bowl and began dabbing at the cut gingerly. Crowley suppressed a hiss as the water invaded and cleaned out the wound. It was followed by relief when Aziraphale miracled a simple bandage to cover it.  Aziraphale’s attention turned to his shirt. “You’ve utterly ruined it, and that was one of my favorites.”

“I just miracled it, angel. Can miracle another.”

“Let’s get it off and let me look at least.”

Aziraphale gingerly pulled the shirt over his head, taking care with his scrapped arm.

“So while I’m patching you up, tell me about another souvenir? What’s your newest one?” Aziraphale began washing his arm as he had his head.

Crowley paused and then looked at him with a grin. “Can you guess?”

“I really have no idea, my dear.” Another bandage appeared, this one wrapping gently around his arm.

“Well, my newest souvenir is truly adorable. Utterly and completely. It’s probably my favorite.”

Aziraphale looked away from the bandaging, seemingly satisfied, and at Crowley. “You said you didn’t have a favorite.”

“I got this new one since then.”

Aziraphaled continued to stare at Crowley, but raised his eyebrow in question.

“I’ll give you a hint, it’s in this room.”

Aziraphale glanced around, confirming for himself. “But dear, there’s nothing in this room. You haven’t moved anything here yet. We haven’t even gotten the boxes packed, let alone moved over.”

Crowley grinned at Aziraphale. “There’s one thing in this room. New to being mine. But it’s of the utmost importance to me. Utterly my favorite souvenir.”

Aziraphale huffed impatiently. “Well if you won’t tell me, I’ll go back to bandaging you up and-”

Crowley reached out and gently turned Aziraphale’s face back to him. “You. My angel. It’s you. I added an angel to my collection and I have no intention of ever letting you go.”

Crowley’s name was little more than a sigh on Aziraphale’s lips as he gently leaned in for a soft kiss.

\-----------------------------------------------------

**One Year Later**

An angel and a demon were curled around each other on a couch. The angel was reading while the demon gently ran fingers through his hair.

“Trying to be the distraction this evening, love?”

“Always, angel.”

“Forever tempting me, must I always thwart you?” Aziraphale’s words were soft as he smiled and put his book down.

“Y’know, could be worse, angel. I could decide to rearrange again.” As if to prove his point, Crowley rearranged himself. Shifting from where he’d been at Aziraphale’s side to across his lap, arms draped across Aziraphale’s shoulders. He leaned in until their noses were nearly touching.

Aziraphale leaned forward just enough to touch their noses with a laugh. “Foul fiend.”

They sit surrounded. Books and souvenirs intermingled amongst shelves, as their hearts and lives are now intermingled. Both sitting comfortably among each other.

Crowley knows that Aziraphale still hasn’t found all of his souvenirs. There’s at least a few stories he’s holding out for a rainy day when the angel is bored.

Aziraphale so far has kept the secret that his own souvenirs are hidden amongst Crowley’s.

Their first home together isn’t one, or the other. Instead it’s the wonder of both of them together. As it has been since Eden.

Aziraphale tilts his head just enough to finally catch Crowley’s lips, kissing him softly. Neither needs to tell the other they love them. They both know. But they whisper it anyway, joyful that they can.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To all of those who have read this far, thank you <3
> 
> This isn't the end. Not for them. Really it's the beginning. And that leaves me all kinds of happy.
> 
> To my Fab and the Saunter, please know I wouldn't have finished this without you all. Certainly it wouldn't be as good as it is.
> 
> To those of you who have left comments every chapter? I've noticed. Oh I've noticed. And it's been what kept me plowing through on the next update some days. Thank you.
> 
> I do have a couple of cut scenes I'll put up in a day or two once I polish them up a bit. But I'm really proud to call this one "officially" complete <3


End file.
